


Broken

by starsandstark



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety Disorder, Character Death, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Content, Small Town Romance, Stony - Freeform, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 41,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandstark/pseuds/starsandstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers small town AU (no superpowers). Tony Stark moves to the tiny town of Kiowa, KS for his job as a big oil tycoon with his son Peter & personal assistant Pepper Potts. Things are boring until school starts when Tony meets Peter's 1st grade teacher, Steve Rogers, and falls hard for the pretty blonde in the checkered shirts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony stands in the doorway of the new house in the all black suit he'd driven into town wearing. The air conditioning coming from the 2 story, 3400 square foot house is doing little to nothing to cool his face. Sweat is dripping down his temple, making it hard for his designer sunglasses to stay put on his perfectly curved nose.

_Note to self, don't wear suits on 104 degree days_.

"Is that it?" Peter asks, standing at his father's hip, a plastic terrarium clutched in his right hand that houses his pet tarantula, Flash.

"Yep."

"It's..." Peter can't find the right word; all he knows that it is definitely _not Manhattan._

"I know," Tony sighs.

Peter pushes past Tony's legs and makes his way around the downstairs. This new house is modern with tile floors and granite counter tops but as Peter goes to check out the 2nd story the wood stairs squeak with each step Peter takes. This is definitely going to be an adjustment.

Peter makes his rounds through all the bedrooms and finally picks the one with the view of the backyard. From the room you can see the pond a few hundred yards back and the wrap around porch. Even still, it definitely doesn't have the beautiful lights of the Manhattan skyline that his old bedroom did.

He sets his terrarium on the floor and lies down next to it with a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling so alone. But alone is okay because alone is what Peter has; it's what he's always known. He's never been too good at making friends. He gets bullied in school a lot and he hopes that at his new school kids might finally be nice to him because he and Tony are definitely the richest people in town. Then again, the town isn't very big with a population of roughly 1600 residents.

Peter has already decided that everyone here is so _weird_. They wear denim tuxedos and overalls and ripped jeans but definitely _not_ the good kind. Peter already feels like he and Tony are outsiders. Tony didn't do anything to help that complex when he opted to drive into town in the Audi R8. No one in Kiowa had ever seen such a car. The newest vehicle in town is 2 years old and when Tony drove down Main Street, disobeying the 20 miles-per-hour speed limit, people _stared_. Bruce would have never let Tony take the Audi. He would have insisted they drive the Suburban.

Suddenly Peter misses Bruce _so bad_ and Peter feels even more alone.

He wishes Pepper were here but she isn't coming until tomorrow. Peter loves Pepper so much and he sort of thinks of her as his mom. When Tony leaves town to go on business trips he gets to stay with Pepper. He loves her because she makes him go to bed on time like Bruce used to do. She reminds him a lot of Bruce, except with long hair and lighter skin and the fact that she's a woman. Regardless, Pepper makes Tony behave just like Bruce used to. Pepper is always there for Peter just like Bruce used to be, especially when Tony leaves.

Peter hates it when Tony goes on business trips because he's so terrified that he won't come back. When Bruce left for a mission in Bosnia he promised Tony and Peter that it'd be okay. He'd never been there before and didn't really know what he was getting himself into. He promised things would be fine but they weren't; he came home on an airplane in a body bag.

Peter misses how Bruce used to tell him stories about the different countries he'd been to. When Peter had a bad day at school Bruce always made it better. Tony tries but he only ends up making things worse. But Bruce would bring Peter a bowl of ice cream and hold Peter on his lap and tell him stories. Peter loved the way Bruce told his stories. He made different voices for each character. It's been 14 months since he's heard one of Bruce's stories.

Peter loves Tony too but in a different way. Tony is the fun parent and lets Peter stay up until whatever hour he wanted when Bruce wasn't around. Tony would take Peter to the park and museums and fun places. Tony still does those things, just not as often because of his job. Judging by the size of town and the lack of entertainment options, it would be happening even less in the coming months.

Being alone for Peter is okay and everything but he's starting to get bored. He pushes himself off the carpet and walks downstairs in search of his dad. He weaves through the boxes and between the movers until he finds Tony in the kitchen on the phone.

"No. Yeah, okay, we should be here. No big plans. Thanks, Pep."

Tony slides his phone onto the counter and turns around, surprised to see his son downstairs.

"Hey, Champ!" Tony smiles, "Thought you'd gotten lost."

"No," Peter sighs.

"Guess who that was."

"Pepper."

Tony frowns, "How'd you know?"

"I heard you."

"Said she'll be here tomorrow. Well, what do you think of the house?"

"It's not New York," Peter grumbles.

"Yeah, I know."

Tony and Peter spend the better part of the afternoon telling the movers where to put the boxes. By Peter's bedtime they have most of his room arranged and Flash is set up in his regular tank on top of Peter's dresser. Tony tucks his son into the familiar bed with the familiar sheets but it isn't the same for Peter because this isn't _home_. Peter's very afraid that he may never begin to like this town. He doesn't even want to think about school yet.

Tony pulls the quilt up to Peter's chin, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Night, Peter."

"G'night," Peter replies quietly. He waits until Tony's at the door to say, "Dad?"

Tony turns around, eyebrows rising in question.

"Is it okay if I still miss Papa?"

Tony looks away for a long moment. He isn't really sure why Peter would ask him such a thing. Maybe he misinterpreted something Tony said, or something he hadn't said. Maybe it's because Tony isn't exactly good at expressing emotion. He suppresses things so much that he feels like it's all going to come out at some point but it never does. He would never let Peter know that he was still sad about Bruce.

Tony finally looks back at his son with glossy eyes and doesn't trust his voice enough to speak, so he simply nods his head. Tony still misses Bruce, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. Thanks for the coments & subscriptions.

"Is the air conditioner even _on_?" Steve asks in an irritated tone. It's seriously 100 degrees outside and the school feels even warmer than that. It's stuffy even with all of the windows open.

Phil Coulson spins around, looking at Steve pointedly, "Budget cuts."

"Natasha said you wanted to see me?" the blond asks, leaning against the doorway of the principal's office.

"Yeah. I have your roll sheet."

Phil shuffles through the sea of papers on his desk, finding Steve's designated packet. He crosses the room and Steve takes it, flipping a page and pausing.

"Peter Stark?" Steve asks quizzically, his eyebrows furrowed, "Who's that?"

Coulson leans back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"New family in town. Haven't you heard? Big oil tycoon Tony Stark?"

Steve searches his mind for a moment. Now that he thinks about it, he did hear Clint say something about it this morning when he stopped for coffee.

"Oh," Steve nods slowly, "Right. So I get to deal with the rich guy and his more-than-likely spoiled kid all year."

"Hey, look at it this way: you'll probably get really expensive teacher gifts," Coulson smirks. "Anyway, yeah, they came into town yesterday. They're living in the old Laufeyson place. I heard Stark got it totally redone inside with granite and stainless steel appliances. Completely ruined it."

"Hm."

Steve glances down at the paper once more before flipping it closed.

"Why here?" he asks more to himself than to Phil.

Coulson shrugs, "Because the town and all of our houses are sitting on top of a black gold mine. In case you haven't noticed, we're dirt poor and could really use the money."

"Oh, come on! That's ridiculous; we aren't dirt poor."

"Seriously, Rogers? When was the last time you saw a new business open in town?"

Steve honestly can't remember. Then again, he's been here for 3 years and everything has remained the same, minus the closing of several businesses. He has to admit that yes, they are dirt poor and yes, the oil fracking that Stark Resources is trying to implement would do them all some good. Then again, Steve loves this small town atmosphere and he doesn't want it to grow. He feels at home and safe here. Much more so than he did in the big city.

Steve lets out a heavy sigh and wipes at his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

"So what do you think they're like?"

Phil takes a seat at his desk, leaning back in the chair.

"No idea. But they probably eat that expensive organic shit you buy in those special grocery stores."

Coulson stares down at his lap for a long moment as a cloud of silence hovers over them. This is the perfect opportunity to ask Steve out; Phil's wanted to do that for months. He knows that Steve probably wouldn't be interested in someone like him. In fact, he's certain, because he's tried before. Maybe this time will be different. Coulson _knows_ that Steve is gay because he had Fury, the Chief of Police, do a background check and pull anything and everything he could find on Rogers so it's only a matter of wooing him.

"So," Phil begins nervously. He has to force himself to look up at Steve. All he has to do is ask Steve to lunch. They could go to the Plum Thickett on their break because it's right down the road and no one would suspect anything because they're kind of friends and they work together. It wouldn't even seem like a date.

"What?"

"I-I was thinking maybe we could grab some lunch at the Thickett."

Steve hesitates to answer because it's the 3rd time Phil has asked him out and Steve isn't the best at letting people know that he isn't interested. He always ends up sounding unappreciative and unflattered but that's just his awkwardness shining through. Plus, Phil is Steve's boss and everyone knows that. People in this town aren't exactly accepting of anyone outside the realm of middle-aged farmers who definitely are _not_ gay.

When Steve first moved to Kiowa every woman between the ages of 20 and 35 would flirt with him. What could they say; Steve is _gorgeous_. Apparently Coulson thinks so, too, because Steve is all taught legs, thick arms, blond hair, pretty blue eyes and long eyelashes and not to mention that _ass_.

"Phil, I… you know that isn't a good idea. I'm flattered, really, but-"

"Not as a date, just as friends. Lunch between friends."

Steve gives him a sympathetic look before shaking his head.

"You know, I have a lot of things to do to get my room ready for Meet the Teacher. I really shouldn't even take a lunch break today."

Coulson emits a defeated sigh and nods to himself. He can't even look at Steve anymore and probably won't be able to for the rest of the day.

"That's that then."

"I'm sorry," Steve murmurs quietly before turning on his heel and walking down to his classroom. He isn't really surprised when Natasha is still sitting on his desk, her legs crossed and feet swinging.

"What'd he want?" she asks curiously.

Steve gestures with his roll sheet before sliding it on the desk.

"Ah," she smiles, noting the look on Steve's face, "But he asked you out again, didn't he?"

"He did," Steve sighs, flopping down in his chair dramatically, "And again, I declined. I mean, it wouldn't look good. This town is small and people already know every move we make. We both work for the school and it just wouldn't work."

"You know you don't have to prove anything to me," the redhead admits, "If you're not interested, you're not interested."

She reaches over and snatches the paper, eyes skimming it quickly.

"You have Stark's son?" she asks, glancing up at the blond man.

"Yep."

"You met him yet?"

"No," Steve shakes his head, "You?"

"Nope. Clint and I were supposed to go by the house and check it out last night but he decided target practice was a lot more important."

Steve snickers, propping his feet up on the desk next to Natasha. Leave it to her to spy on the new guy in town. Steve doesn't know why everyone is making such a big deal about Tony Stark. Really, he's just a rich guy from New York who's trying to bring their town back to life while making more millions in the process. But from the things Steve heard in the coffee shop earlier this morning Tony is already an enemy among a lot of the townspeople.

"I don't understand why everyone's making such a big fuss about this guy."

"Other than the fact that he has the potential to change our entire community and bring in some much needed modern day improvements, it's no big deal."

"Why are you even here?" Steve shoots back, "Shouldn't you be in the gym cleaning stuff out?"

"I'm done," Natasha shrugs.

"Then would you mind helping me set up the room?" Steve asks, rising up from his chair, "You can give it the… the woman's touch it needs."

"Fuck you, Rogers!" Natasha laughs, hopping off the desk and walking out of the classroom. She pokes her head back in only to joke, "You're entirely capable of giving it a woman's touch."

Steve laughs, shaking his head, and Natasha is gone just like that.

Natasha and Steve are basically best friends even though they don't share many of the same qualities. The older teachers at the school don't understand why they're friends. No one likes Natasha much and that's mostly because she pushes the students to run harder and jump higher in than they should ever have to. But Natasha is a retired spy living here with her husband Clint as part of a witness protection program, so naturally she gives everything her all, including her job as the gym teacher, regardless if it scares her students shitless.

Natasha and Clint moved here not long before Steve did. They had finally had enough of running and hiding and finally found a spot to chill in the middle of the country where nobody would suspect a thing. They settled down and bought a house with a big enough backyard for target practice. Clint's weapon of choice is a bow and arrow, while Natasha's is a handgun. They're notorious around town as the couple of hardcore hunters who compete with each other to see who can kill the most deer during hunting season.

Upon moving to Kiowa, Steve had almost immediately made it a habit to stop by Clint's coffee shop nearly every morning. They exchanged small talk until Natasha and Clint saw Steve at the July 4th party in the park. Steve was sitting at a table alone, sketching a scene of the community barbeque when Clint thought he looked lonely. From what Clint could tell Steve was a pretty nice guy and he seemed like he could use someone around his and Natasha's age to talk to. The three of them clicked after having learned that they all lived in Oklahoma City at one time.

Across town in the Stark residence, Tony is just beginning to stir. He hadn't fallen asleep until well past midnight. He couldn't sleep, not after what Peter had said about still missing Bruce. Tony hadn't had a trigger like that in a few weeks and he thought he was doing better. He didn't feel better until he pulled Bruce's old bathrobe out of the box it had been packed away in and slipped it on. He finally fell asleep after that.

Peter is lying on the sofa watching cartoons when Tony stumbles in, hair sticking out in every direction. As soon as Tony sits down at the opposite end of the couch Peter is crawling in his lap, snuggling into Tony's embrace.

"Morning," Peter says, glancing back at his dad.

Tony just grins, kissing Peter on the cheek. Peter reaches out to stroke the soft purple material of the bathrobe, feeling the fibers move under his fingers. He remembers when Bruce would get up and cook them a late Sunday brunch and how they would stay in their pajamas all day sometimes. Bruce was never without his purple robe.

"This was Papa's," Peter whispers.

Tony nods, "Yes it was. You get something to eat for breakfast?"

It's Peter's turn to nod, "I had cereal."

Peter resumes his TV show and is content to sit in Tony's lap while doing so. Tony's sort of stuck because of that, not that he minds much because he doesn't feel like moving, and he's thankful when his phone is in reach when it rings.

"Yeah," Tony answers.

It's Pepper, "Hey, I shouldn't be more than thirty minutes. Wanna go grab lunch? I'm starving and I need to go over some plans with you about next week."

"Yeah, that's fine. See you in a bit."

Tony ends the call, tossing his phone back onto the table.

"Hey, Pepper said she'd be here soon. Go get dressed and we'll go for some lunch, okay?" Tony asks, pushing his son off his lap gently. When Peter makes no effort to move Tony flips the TV off.

" _Now_ , Peter."

"Fine," Peter sighs. He does as Tony says because Tony looks sad this morning. But Pepper's coming and Peter loves her. Not only does he love her, she always seems to be what Tony needs to cheer up and Peter secretly hopes that maybe someday soon Pepper can be there for Tony just like Bruce was.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

It's late by the time Pepper and Peter arrive at the school. They wait outside for Tony but Pepper realizes soon that he isn't going to be on time. Everyone is almost gone from the school and they have roughly 30 more minutes left until the scheduled time to meet Peter's teacher ends.

When the frenzied woman in a tailored black suit walks into his class room on Meet the Teacher night, Steve is a little confused initially. But trailing behind her is a little 7-year-old boy with dark hair and brown eyes. Steve's never seen the child before so he must be Peter Stark and there's a woman here with him so she must be his mother, Steve assumes.

"Hi," Pepper smiles, extending a hand and shaking Steve's, "I'm Pepper."

"Steve Rogers," the blond man smiles, glancing down and holding a hand out to Peter, "Who's this?"

Pepper runs her fingers through Peter's hair affectionately, "This is Peter."

Mr. Rogers is definitely not like the teachers Peter used to have in New York. He's really tall and not wrinkled at all. He definitely isn't a skinny woman and he has a really nice smile that Peter likes. He feels instantly comfortable with Steve.

"Hi," Peter says, smiling just a little.

"I'm sorry," Pepper apologizes suddenly, glancing up from her phone, "Tony should be here any minute. He was supposed to meet us here. We waited outside for ten minutes but…"

"Your husband?" Steve guesses.

"No! No, definitely _not_ my husband," she answers, slightly flustered and wow, this is getting awkward really quickly. "Tony's my boss."

"Oh."

"Can I sit here?" Peter asks suddenly. Before he receives an answer he's climbing up onto Steve's chair.

"Peter, get down."

"No," Steve admits with a chuckle, "It's fine. School isn't in yet so we can disobey the rules for now, right?" Steve hops back onto the top of his desk for emphasis, sitting comfortably and crossing his arms.

Just then Pepper's phone buzzes in her hand and she looks down at it with a grimace.

"Peter, I'll be right back," she says, glancing at Steve, "Excuse me."

"Tony!" Pepper hisses, walking out into the hallway hastily, "You're late! My god, where the hell have you been? I've been texting you nonstop!"

Tony looks at her pointedly, shrugging, "I fell asleep."

"I can't believe you! I told you three times when to be here! What did—" Pepper stops short as soon as she notices one of the teachers poking her head out the door down the hallway. Pepper flashes an insincere smile before turning her back to the woman.

"Everyone in this town is so damn nosy."

"Tell me about it," Tony mutters, "You know I saw kids peeking in the living room window this morning? What the fuck is it with these freaks? Have they never seen anyone out of this century before?"

"To be fair everyone here looks like they're stuck in the 70's," Pepper admits before grabbing Tony by the arm and practically dragging him into the classroom.

As soon as Steve turns his head to look at Tony, Tony forgets how to breathe because _oh my god_ , Steve Rogers is gorgeous. Tony's speechless and that's a new thing for him. He's certainly never been speechless before. Always ready with some sarcastic, witty remark, but not this time. Since he came to town he's become accustomed to seeing tired middle-aged housewives and old farmers with beer guts and to see Steve, young and alive and sexy, is such a contrast.

Tony doesn't snap out of his teenage boy trance until Pepper nudges him with her elbow.

"Tony, this is Steve Rogers."

Steve hops down from the desk with a smile, approaching Tony as if it's no big deal. But it's a huge deal because Mr. Stark is dapper in his black suit. Steve would be lying if he said he didn't ask himself, 'What is it with these people and their suits?'

The first thing Tony notices up close are Steve's vibrant blue eyes, so alive and open and beautiful. His skin's like porcelain with sweeping eyelashes and high cheek bones and candy lips. He's taller than Tony by a few inches and in general just _damn_ because Mr. Rogers is _hot_. He's wearing khakis and a dorky plaid shirt that no doubt came from Walmart because that's the only thing resembling a clothing store in a 30 mile radius. So how the fuck does Steve still manage to look _that delicious_?

Likewise, Steve is infatuated with Tony with his immaculate facial hair, big brown eyes and that damn flashy suit. Steve is smiling endlessly, extending his hand, and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't sweaty.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Stark."

Tony snaps out of it because now it's time to impress Steve and woo him or at least try to because he doesn't even know if Steve is gay. But Tony is going to pursue this man because no one has given him such intense feels since Bruce. So Tony pulls out his firm, business handshake, trying so hard to ignore the fact that Steve's hands are soft and warm but also sweaty, which Tony finds endearing.

"Tony," he insists, "Call me Tony, Mr. Stark was my father."

"Well, _Tony_ ," Steve amends, "The word in town is you're here to change our lives for the better."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna try."

"How's the town treating you so far?"

Tony sighs, "Well, so far all I've come across are old men and women who couldn't look at me any worse. I'm not winning here and we haven't even been given a chance."

Steve nods, "Well, there's some controversy over the whole oil fracking thing."

"What's your opinion?" Tony asks a little too quickly and maybe a little too defensively.

Steve hesitates, trying to read Tony. Nope, nothing. Tony is unreadable.

So he begins slowly, "I think what you're trying to do for the town is great. But there are people here who depend on the land because it's their entire way of life. You can't blame them for feeling threatened by a huge corporation."

Tony thought he liked Steve but now Steve is just pissing him off. Tony doesn't want to talk about work; he's been at work all day and it's the last thing on his mind so he throws his arms up dramatically.

"Whatever, we're not here for business. Someone will eventually be around to your door to explain the whole process to you and then you can decide for yourself instead of listening to the assholes in town that don't know a damn thing about what they're talking about."

"Tony!" Pepper snaps, backhanding Tony in the stomach.

"What?" Tony snaps back, glaring at Pepper. She's supposed to be his assistant, not his mother.

Steve Rogers is blushing now and he's entirely embarrassed, shrinking back a little to lean against his desk in a defeated manner.

"No, he's right," Steve admits in defeat and Pepper rolls her eyes because Tony gets such a huge ego boost when people say he's right.

Steve continues, "I don't know what I'm talking about. But in all fairness, Mr. Stark—"

" _Tony_."

"—Tony, you did ask for my opinion. But you're right; I'll listen to what your company has to say before I make the decision for myself."

Just then there's a knock at the doorway and Natasha walks in completely unannounced. Steve isn't accustomed to seeing her decked out in anything other than gym clothes but she looks beautiful in a black pencil skirt and white ruffled blouse. He figures she must have wanted to make a good impression. She smiles at the three of them before her eyes settle on Peter, who everyone else seemingly forgot about.

"Oh, um, Peter, Tony, Pepper, this is Natasha. She's the crazy gym teacher."

Tony smiles at her approvingly before shaking hands and Pepper does the same. Peter is still silent in Steve's desk chair, kicking against the desk to spin himself around. He gets what he wants when Tony finally turns his attention to him and frowns, reaching out to stop the chair.

"Peter, stop it. Get out of the chair."

Peter grudgingly obeys and Tony is a little irritated. It's not that Peter is a bad kid or spoiled or a brat, it's just that sometimes he doesn't think Tony pays enough attention to him and he'll do anything to get Tony to notice. Peter used to be perfect but since Bruce passed Peter acts out every now and then just enough for Tony to give him positive or negative attention; sometimes it doesn't even matter which. Peter just needs the reassurance that Tony is there and noticing him.

Steve is definitely surprised by Tony's ability to make his son comply. As much as Steve likes to think that he doesn't stereotype, he finds himself doing it occasionally. He remembers a few days ago when he referred to Peter as the 'more-than-likely spoiled kid' and now he's feeling guilty. Peter definitely isn't spoiled. But Tony definitely is a rich guy, and technically that isn't a stereotype.

After more small talk and an introduction between Peter and Natasha, Natasha's heels click on her way out of the room and soon it's just the four of them again. Pepper is trying very hard not to notice the way Steve keeps glancing at Tony when he thinks Tony isn't paying attention. The last thing Tony needs is some pretty blond pining after him in the middle of what could be a huge contract deal.

Eight o'clock comes sooner than expected and only a few more students stop by Mr. Rogers' room. Tony, Pepper and Peter manage to hang around long enough to watch Steve close up and lock the door. Tony is reluctant to leave without asking Steve to have coffee with him, but Pepper senses the look in Tony's eyes and shakes her head just once; she doesn't even have to say anything and Tony complies. He doesn't think it's fair but he doesn't argue as they leave the school, walking out into the hot, dry evening.

Two months ago Pepper was telling Tony to try and find someone to date again because Bruce would want him to be happy. However, Tony felt it was more important to focus on getting Peter through his seventh birthday than finding a companion. It's weird because Tony goes through stages with Peter. Sometimes he acts like Peter is this huge chore but other times he'll bend to Peter's every whim. Pepper equates it to the stages of grief that Tony may be going through at the time.

But tonight Tony feels like being structured and sends Peter to bed at 8:30 because he and Pepper need to talk, so he does just that. He takes a seat at the kitchen table with a bottle of scotch and a tumbler clasped between his fingers and waits for Pepper to come back downstairs. When she does she's wearing pajamas and snatches the now empty glass from Tony's hand, pouring herself a serving and taking a sip.

"Pep, I think I should ask him out," Tony says decidedly.

"What?" Pepper asks, thinking for a second before adding, "Steve Rogers? No."

"I should have," Tony reasons with a shrug, "I had the perfect opportunity."

"Why would he agree to a date? You embarrassed him."

"I did not," Tony says defensively.

"You were being an ass. You do that a lot, you know."

Pepper forgets to tell Tony about the way Steve kept looking at him when he thought Tony wasn't paying attention.

"He had no right to say anything about fracking if he doesn't know the ends and out of it. And besides, it's been over a year since Bruce died. I think it's time for me to start moving on."

Tony sighs heavily because _there_ , he said it. Bruce would want him to move on so Tony will do his best. He can still be sad sometimes but he's ready to find someone like Bruce to fill the emptiness in his life.

Pepper throws back the rest of her scotch, sliding the tumbler back to Tony who proceeds to have another drink for himself.

"Steve Rogers would _not_ go on a date with you. Can you imagine what everyone in town would say? Jesus, you're just _giving_ them reasons to hate you, Tony. We're not in Manhattan anymore; you can't just hit on people with no abandon."

"Yeah, uh, you probably should have told me that _before_ I flirted with the girl at the gas station this morning." It wasn't really _flirting_ , just shameless indulgence that could easily be mistaken for flirting in this town.

"You're unbelievable, Tony Stark."

Tony grins, "You love me."

"Don't blame me when you screw everything up. And it's not if, it's when," Pepper says before she stands up, heading upstairs for the night.

"Do I have your permission?!" Tony hollers after her. His response is the slamming of a bedroom door and Tony grins in triumph. He'll take that as a yes.

As usual, Steve comes home to an empty house. He really thought he'd be used to it by now but 3 years in this town and he still forgets that at the end of the day he's so alone. But at times like these when he's so desperate he feels fortunate to live alone. He stripes his clothes, throwing them into the hallway laundry hamper and washes his hands thoroughly before lying down. Steve doesn't even have to pull up a website to get hard because he's so beyond ready to lose himself in sexual abandon that porn isn't necessary.

No one would expect Steve to have a sex drawer. To be fair it isn't a full drawer; it's just a double ended dildo, a standard dildo, a silver vibrator, a glass anal wand and a variety of lubricants. There's J-Lube for when he wants to take his time and play and really work his ass, passion fruit flavored lube when he's feeling sexy enough to pull the toy out of himself and taste it, and then there's the Maximus, the generic stuff that any grown adult should own. So okay, maybe it is a full drawer, but it isn't like he has any other option. This, these toys, are all Steve has and he Steve just wants to get off so doesn't waste time climbing onto the bed, the bottle of Maximus in one hand and the standard, 8 inch dildo in the other.

He starts on his back because it's easier that way until he's sufficiently loose. He doesn't waste time coating his fingers with the clear almost-slime and doesn't even have to remember to close his eyes because they close immediately when his lubricated fingers stroke over his eager entrance. He teases, rubbing soft circles until he can't stand it and he _has_ to push in. Two fingers at once and a soft gasp leaves his mouth as his bubblegum pink lips part because it's _that good._

Steve is generous with the lube when he squirts it on his cock one-handed because he's too desperate to wait and pushes a third finger in simultaneously. He's pumping and teasing his cock with his left hand, fingertips dancing across the blunt head as he thrusts his fingers best he can. He's loose enough within a couple of minutes to pull his fingers out with a wet slurp and he reaches for the dildo, easily slipping it in to the base.

" _Oh_ ," Steve moans and he isn't even ashamed of his verbal response. He's used to keeping quiet when he orgasms but he doesn't really know why because he's alone. But tonight he's so entirely aroused and figures audible gasps and moans and 'oh's' won't hurt anything.

Steve loves this, the feeling of being filled, loves this dildo; it's his favorite. It's so lifelike and it's flexible. It has veins and the head is perfect. He just loves _everything_ about it. He loves it so much he's decided it's the next best thing to having someone inside of him. It's been 3 years since he last had sex with a man and as far as he's concerned, this is just as good.

With the toy still inside of him he rolls onto his belly, head and shoulders down, and rises to his knees with his ass is in the air. His right hand wraps around his cock and gives it a few lazy pumps and he reaches back with his left hand. Thank god for his long arms because in this position Steve's able to get off without either hand getting in the way of the other and it's almost like someone's actually fucking him instead of him doing the work himself. But this is all Steve has so it'll have to do.

He pulls the dildo out almost completely, pushing it back in and making smooth pumping motions. He only lets it go so far as an inch each time, in and out, faster and faster until he feels his orgasm building. He's so loose and there's no resistance and he takes five seconds to lube up the fake cock once more, pushing it back in with a sickening squishing sound. It's buried inside of him base-deep and he holds it there, pumping his dick relentlessly and moaning louder with each movement.

Steve is gasping and his toes are curled so tightly that if he weren't in such ecstasy right now they would definitely be cramping. He's almost there and he can feel it, the way his belly is tingling, the way his scrotum tightens and his cock is expelling clear pre-come. And suddenly he's thinking of Tony because Tony is like a beautiful exotic animal that held Steve under his spell tonight and Steve is completely aroused by that.

Steve's breath comes in harsh gasps and his come spills onto the sheets beneath him. He's writing, rocking back and forth fervently, and he's drooling on the sheets, beads of sweat collecting at his temples, moaning shamelessly through the empty house.

He holds the position for a short while longer until he comes down and then he slides the dildo out of his ass with a slick wet sound. He dips his fingers in his lax hole briefly, shuttering at the feeling of his slippery heat. He could come again if he wanted to but right now he's exhausted and a bit perplexed as to why he thought of Tony Stark when he was getting off.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

It's the night before school starts when Tony walks into Java Cakes, the tiny coffee shop with free wireless internet and comfortable lounge chairs. He's been trying to get Peter ready all day and he just needs time alone, so he left Peter with Pepper and decided to head to the town bar when he saw the little coffee shop at the corner of 7th and Main Street. Since Bruce's death Tony's been trying to stay away from alcohol at any cost and he's thankful that he was paying attention when he drove by.

Inside of the shop there's an L-shaped bar that runs half the length of the front and a case of cupcakes at the end of it. Initially Tony isn't sure what to expect but the vibe is similar to Starbucks and as he's looking around he sees two familiar faces. Steve and Natasha are sitting at the end of the bar, coffee cups clutched between their hands.

Tony quips, "Shouldn't you two be partying it up on the last day of summer?"

Natasha smirks knowingly, putting a hand to Steve's shoulder as they both turn to look at Tony. "This is the extent of Steve's social life."

"No," Tony gasps in feign disbelief.

"This would be the extent of my social life, yes." Steve chuckles before taking a sip of his coffee.

Tony turns to Clint, glancing up at the menu and sliding a 10 dollar bill across the counter.

"Give me a latte with two extra shots."

With his back turned to Tony, Clint glances back over his shoulder. "How're you liking town so far?"

Tony shrugs, moving to sit down at the other end of the coffee bar with Steve and Natasha. "It's taking some time getting used to it."

"I hear you. Took me and Tasha a while to adjust. It's different, y'know?"

"It's hard to get used to especially when you're accustomed to modern conveniences. I mean, the nearest chain store is 25 minutes away and even then it's just Walmart."

Clint slides Tony's latte across the counter and when he takes a sip his eyebrows go up involuntarily because _wow_.

"Shit's good," Tony remarks in surprise. "Better than Starbucks."

"Yeah?"

Tony nods, taking another sip of his drink and when Clint goes to give Tony his change, Tony shakes his head. "Keep it, looks like you could use it," he replies sarcastically.

Clint isn't sure whether or not Tony is joking but as soon as Tony cracks a smile, Clint laughs. He doesn't know why everyone thinks Tony is such a bad guy because he really isn't. He just has a tendency to be rude and sarcastic 9 times out of 10.

"Thanks, Stark."

Tony hadn't introduced himself to Clint yet but it doesn't strike him as odd that Clint knows his name. Then again, _everyone_ knows who Tony is. That's both a flattering and terrifying thing because people are already thinking the worst of them, save the 3 people in this coffee shop.

Natasha turns to Tony to ask, "How's the business coming?"

Tony shrugs, "I have no idea; ask my PA. I've been so busy trying to get Peter ready for school this year. We had to drive to Wichita for clothes. Where the hell do you guys shop around here?" Tony asks, amused.

"Internet," Natasha and Clint reply in unison.

Tony's a little relieved that Steve is here because he needed to talk to him about Peter. He planned on doing it tomorrow morning when he drops Peter off but now would seem like a better time for Steve to know rather than a time when everything is hectic.

"Hey, Steve--can we talk?"

Steve and Natasha exchange a knowing glance and Natasha hops off her bar stool with a smirk, taking her coffee with her and calling to Clint that she'll see him at home.

"What's up?" Steve asks as Tony resumes Natasha's spot on the empty stool.

"Yeah, I just thought you should know something. Sometimes Peter tends to act out in class. Last year we had a few incidents. My husband— his dad died a year ago and he still has trouble in school sometimes. He's a good kid, though."

Steve nods slowly before looking up at Tony with a reassuring smile.

"You don't have to worry about anything. I care about my students as if they were my own kids. I think Peter will be fine."

"Well, he doesn't really like to socialize with the other kids. He gets picked on a lot."

Steve reaches out to touch Tony's forearm with a gentle, reassuring hand.

"It'll be fine, Tony. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from. I don't tolerate anything of that sort. Peter's in good hands. I'll treat him just like any of my other students."

Tony lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and nods. Just then, a loud clap of thunder booms through the atmosphere, followed by a flash of lightning, and Tony literally jumps.

"What's the matter?" Steve teases, "Scared of a little lightning?"

Tony chuckles and shakes his head, "No."

Steve twirls his empty coffee cup, glancing over his shoulder and outside the window. It's _pouring_ and that's terrible because he walked here. He had no idea it was supposed to rain. He stands up with a sigh, tossing his empty cup into the trash and leaning against the window.

"That's great," Steve groans sarcastically.

Clint, who had been listening to their entire conversation, chimes in, "I keep telling you to drive your car. How many times does this have to happen before you listen?"

"Shut up, Barton," Steve mutters.

Tony takes the last sip of his drink, sliding off the stool and throwing the cup away before standing beside Steve at the window. They're silent until Tony looks over.

"I can give you a ride."

"Oh, no, I couldn't—"

"I insist," Tony says, looking to Clint, "See you 'round—"

"Clint," Barton replies with a half-smile.

With a small nod Tony pulls his keys out, hitting the unlock button and pushing through the door. Steve follows and they both jog to Tony's Audi. Steve has a hard time ducking down to get in because he's so tall and Tony finds that so adorable, though he'd never admit it.

"Where to Mr. Rogers?"

"147 North 10th street."

"That's right around the corner from our place," Tony says idly, pulling out and turning onto Main Street. They drive in silence because Steve's house is only a minute away.

"It's this one," Steve says, pointing to the tiny, immaculate craftsman-style home with the large American flag hanging in the front. Tony reaches for the handle Tony clears his throat.

"Wait."

The blond turns, looking at Tony, "What?"

"I was wondering if— would you want to go out sometime? With… me?"

Steve sits back against the seat, looking down at his lap. He would love to go out with Tony but people in town would definitely talk. Steve wouldn't be surprised if they already knew that he has Tony's son in his class. No one likes Tony and if they saw Steve and Tony together, Steve was likely to get some of the backlash. But Steve really, _really_ likes Tony and would love to get to know him.

"I don't think that's a good idea," the blond says slowly, "To be seen with a student's parent on a date would be—"

Tony hurries to cover himself, "Oh, okay."

Steve smiles endlessly at the older man, "—but I'd love to have you over for dinner. Say Wednesday night at six o'clock?"

"That—" Tony breathes, relieved, "That would be— yes. Wednesday at six."

Steve nods, still grinning like crazy. With his hand on the car door handle he leans over just barely, lightly kissing Tony on the cheek. Tony doesn't even have time to respond before Steve hops out of the car and jobs up to his porch in the pouring rain. Once inside, Steve unbuttons his rain-speckled checkered shirt and tosses it into the hamper. After that, he goes to the kitchen with the intent of digging through his mother's old cook books because he _really_ needs to find a recipe that will win Tony over.


	5. Chapter 5

"First day of school," Pepper chimes softly, poking her head into Peter's bedroom and flipping the light on. "Rise and shine, sweetie, I made you pancakes." Pepper's heels echo throughout the house as she races downstairs and Tony is still sitting at the table in his boxers and robe.

"I told you to get up!" Pepper says, exasperated. "You have to drop Peter off at eight and we have a meeting right after that so get up."

She reaches out, grabbing Tony's phone from his hand and motioning to the general direction of Tony's room.

"Hey!"

"You can have it back when you're dressed. I put your suit on the bathroom door."

"Thanks, _Mom_ ," he mumbles sarcastically. Nevertheless, Tony obeys and comes back into the kitchen 10 minutes later to see Peter dressed and at the table eating.

"Hey," Tony grumbles, rubbing at Peter's hair with one hand and snatching his phone from the table with the other.

"I just combed that," Pepper sighs, smoothing Peter's hair back into place and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"We bicker like a married couple," Tony observes. "You know that, right? What do you think, Pete? Pepper and I should get married, right?"

"Yeah," Peter laughs with a tiny nod. Sometimes he wishes his dad and Pepper would just get married. They're already living together and Pepper takes care of Peter as if he were her son. They get along so well and Peter loves it when they all 3 go out to do things together. He thinks Pepper would be the perfect mom because she's so much like Bruce.

Pepper snatches Peter's empty breakfast plate, slinging his lunch box on the table at the same time. "You need to leave."

Tony retorts, "And you need to calm down. Jesus, Pep, I just woke up."

"You've been awake for an hour," she says pointedly, grabbing Peter's backpack from the hook and shoving it at Tony. "I'll meet you at the office."

Tony nods, handing Peter the backpack and grabbing the lunchbox off the table.

* * *

At the school Steve is standing in the hallway. Several students are already in the room and their parents are lingering, taking pictures and in general just being parents. He does his best not to smile when Natasha rounds the corner clad in her usual gym clothes.

"Rogers," she says with a nod.

"Natasha," Steve retorts. "What are you doing here? Why do you always show up at my room?"

"Thought you might need some company. My first class isn't until nine."

They stand there in silence until Tony and Peter walk through the double doors. When they do it's like a scene from some ridiculous movie. Tony is in one of his suits, sunglasses still on even though he's inside, and Peter has the exact same pair of glasses, only smaller. Steve can't fight the smile and Natasha is trying so hard not to burst into laughter at the sight. Tony doesn't remove his sunglasses until they get to the door and then he does, flipping them onto the top of his head with a grin.

"Mr. Rogers."

"Mr. Stark," Steve retorts with a tiny nod.

Steve turns into the classroom to show Peter to his desk and Tony stands there in silence until Steve comes back. Even then, Steve senses apprehension from Tony even though his facial expression doesn't echo anything of the sort.

"He'll be fine," Steve says softly.

"Yeah, I just—" Tony reaches out for the pen in the top pocket of Steve's shirt, grabbing the blond man's hand and scribbling on it.

"I need you to call me if anything happens. This is my number for my personal phone. The one the school has on record is the company phone."

Steve pulls his hand back with a smile, "I promise you, everything will be fine. Look, he's sitting in his desk and he's fine."

Tony peers around Steve's shoulder so see that yes, Peter is sitting in the desk to a little girl with blond hair. He seems perfectly content but Tony knows how quickly that can change. Still, he's somewhat assured and looks to Steve once more.

"We're still on for tomorrow night, right?"

"Of course. Six o'clock."

"Six o'clock," Tony repeats, "Okay, well, I have a meeting this morning but I'll still answer if you—"

"He's going to be _fine_."

"Right," Tony nods. He spins around, walking toward the front doors without another word.

As soon as Tony is out of hearing range Natasha grabs Steve's forearm, leaning in to whisper, "You have a date with Tony Stark?"

Steve can't help but smile, "Yeah."

Just then, Coulson is walking by and glares at Natasha.

"What are you doing? Get back to the gym."

"But I don't even—"

"Now _,_ " Phil demands.

Natasha mutters something in a foreign language, giving Coulson one last dirty look before she heads back toward the gym.

Overall, Peter's first day at school is pretty decent. He manages to make one friend, a blond girl his age named Gwen, and before he knows it, Pepper is there to pick him up. Peter wishes it were Tony picking him up, but he knows that Tony's job is important and Tony's job allows them to have all the nice things they have. Still, later in the evening when Tony does get home he's supposedly too tired to do much of anything. He asks Peter simple questions about school and tucks him into bed at 8:30. When Tony and Pepper are finally alone downstairs Tony kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

"Pep, I have a date."

Pepper doesn't look up from her magazine, "I figured as much."

"How?" he retorts, dumbfounded.

Pepper glances over the top of her magazine with an 'oh, please' expression.

"Who told you? No one knows but— did that gym chick tell you? I bet Steve told her."

The blond tosses her magazine onto the coffee table, crossing her arms.

"No, Steve told me when I went to pick Peter up. He told me to remind you to be there at six o'clock. You must've really made an impression when you showed up late for Meet the Teacher."

"God, I was _ten minutes_ late! Anyway, I need you to talk to Peter. If I tell him he'll have a fit and beg me not to go."

"I'm not going to do your dirty work."

"It's what I pay you for."

"You don't pay me to take care of Peter; I do it because he needs me and I love him. This is something you're going to have to tell him yourself."

Tony whines, "Pep—"

"No."

Several seconds of silence go by and Tony realizes that Pepper isn't going to relent.

"Fine! Fine."

How hard can that be?

* * *

Wednesday afternoon, Tony comes home from the office early. He picks Peter up from school when Steve reminds Tony yet again that they're going to eat at six. Tony takes Peter to Java Jazz for a cupcake and by the time they get home it's four thirty. They watch cartoons and Peter makes grand plans for them to watch a movie after dinner. Tony doesn't tell Peter until after he changes into a fresh pair of slacks and button down shirt. He felt like a suit or even a tie would be too formal. It's good, though, because Pepper is home now and she can be the rebound.

"Peter," Tony says, turning off the television and looking down at his son.

"What?"

"I have to go somewhere so I won't be home tonight."

Peter's expression goes from blank to completely distraught. His lip is trembling and Tony can't even look at him because Peter gets so emotional at _everything_.

"Pep's gonna stay with you. You two can watch movies and, hey, maybe she'll even let you stay up late."

Peter knows it isn't true; Pepper always makes him go to bed on time. It's all Peter can do to climb off the sofa and run to Tony's legs, clinging desperately. Tony is counting down the seconds until the tears are here and— yep, there they are.

"Daddy—"

"No," Tony breaks in. "Don't start. I need you to be a big boy for me tonight, okay?" He reaches down to hoist Peter into his arms, kissing away his tears and walking up to Pepper's bedroom. "I'll be back before you know it."

"No!"

"Peter, come on. It isn't a big deal."

"Yes it is!"

Tony knocks briefly before pushing the door open and walking over to the bed. He plops Peter down without a second thought. Pepper looks up from where she's sitting with her laptop on the bed in front of her.

"You won't come back!" Peter screams in anger.

"That's crazy," Tony says with a forced smile, "Of course I'll come back."

"Papa said he would come back and he never did!"

"Peter—" Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair and exchanging a look with Pepper. They have this fight at least once a month. Tony promises that nothing will ever happen to him and that he'll always come back. Peter just doesn't believe him.

"I wanna come with you," Peter whimpers.

Pepper reaches out for the 7-year old, pulling him into her arms and brushing the tears away.

"You know what?" Pepper asks softly, running soothing fingers through Peter's feathery hair, "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. Sometimes we have to let go and let people do things by themselves."

"I'll be right around the block," Tony says reassuringly. "You can call me if you need to. For any reason, you can just pick the phone up and call me and I promise I'll answer. I'll be back in a few hours okay, bud?"

That seems to pacify Peter and he sniffles, settling down into Pepper's embrace and holding his arms out to Tony who, in turn, hugs Peter briefly and kisses his forehead.

"Call me if you need me," Tony says again at the doorway. "I'll be back. I promise you, Peter."

"Okay," Peter whispers finally, managing a weak smile.

Before either of them changes their minds, Tony races downstairs and out the front door.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony does his best not to let the episode with Peter mark his mood for the rest of the evening but he can't get it out of his head. He can't un-hear Peter say that Bruce promised to come back but he never did. Tony's efforts are in vain because when he stops in at the florist and waits on his order, he can't help but be his usual abrasive self.

"These for your wife?" the old woman asks, arranging the roses in the crystal vase that Tony picked out.

"What?" Tony retorts, glancing up from his phone.

"That pretty tall blond you tote around town."

Tony can't hold back an obnoxious, fake laugh.

"Okay, two things. One: I'm positive that I've never laid eyes on you in my life so how the hell do you know who I tote around town? And two: Pepper is not my wife. She's my personal assistant. God, you people are so fucking nosy."

Tony pulls out his wallet, slapping a 50 dollar bill on the counter dramatically, grabbing the vase and storming out of the shop. He should probably be embarrassed but this isn't the first time people have mistaken Pepper to be his wife. Sometimes he thinks maybe he'll show up at one of those stupid socials they're always having and hit on every person who would be a willing victim just so these simple-minded farmers will stop making assumptions so quickly. It's _exhausting_.

Tony actually takes the time to carefully sit the vase on the passenger's seat of the car. He pulls out onto Main Street, obeying the speed limit for the first time since they've moved here, but only because he doesn't want Steve's roses to get fucked up. He doesn't really know _what_ to bring Steve; just felt that he should bring him _something_. Well, that, and Pepper suggested he bring something since he would be the guest in Steve's house.

Tony checks and double checks his face in the mirror before getting out of the car. He straightens his shirt, grabbing the roses off the passenger's seat and heading up to the door.

Last time he saw Steve's house, he couldn't see very well because it was night. But now that it's daytime he can see the immaculate yard, the white picket fence, the tiny garden and the huge American flag hanging from the porch. With a deep breath Tony raises his hand to the door, knuckles rapping at the hard wood.

Likewise, Steve sighs deeply, doing the best he can to drive his nerves away before he opens the door. He's wearing a gorgeous phthalo blue shirt that makes his eyes pop more than Tony could have ever imagined and a pair of jet black sweat pants. His expression reflects surprise as he stares at the roses in Tony's hands.

Tony sort of shoves them awkwardly toward Steve, "These are for you."

"That's sweet," Steve beams, grinning in return, "Thank you."

Steve takes the vase and Tony follows him into the house. It's gorgeous inside, the walls a caramel beige color, decorated with reserved, modern accents. Not what Tony had expected at all.

"You hungry?"

"Starved," Tony answers, trailing after the younger man.

The small table in the kitchen is draped in a white table cloth and two red candlesticks sit in the center of it. The lighting is dimmed and soft music is coming from an iPod dock somewhere in the room. This looks exactly like something Tony would have shared with Bruce.

"I made lasagna and chocolate cake for dessert," Steve says softly, "Take a seat."

Tony does so, sighing with relief because he's had a really tiring day, psychologically and emotionally. He wants nothing more than to sit down at this quiet meal, just him and Steve, and talk about adult things and not worry about Peter or anything else. Tony just needs a _break_.

Steve fixes two plates and places Tony's plate down in front of him, their hands brushing in an electrifying touch as he does so. He pours them each a conservative glass of red wine and Tony is definitely impressed; he hadn't pegged Steve as the classy type. Tony digs into his slab of noodles and meat sauce and moans contentedly when the first bite touches his tongue.

"Mmm," he groans, closing his eyes and swallowing, "Ok, um, wow. This is amazing."

"Thank you," Steve smiles, chuckling and taking a bite for himself. He's pleasantly surprised to find out that Tony isn't just flattering him; it's _good_.

"Oh, I have salad if you—"

"No," Tony answers quickly, "No, vegetables are unnecessary."

"Okay," Steve amends with another smile. He feels so stupid that he can't stop smiling but something — he doesn't know what — won't let him stop smiling at Tony. He just _can't_.

"How was your day?" Steve asks.

"Meh," Tony shrugs, "Long, tiring. Yours?"

"It was good."

Tony continues his unfinished thought, "Peter was upset that I had to go so I had to deal with that."

"Why was he upset?"

Tony shrugs, "He gets upset when I leave. He thinks I won't come back because of what happened to Bruce. He's— he was my husband."

"How long were you married for?" Steve asks softly, glancing up at Tony before taking another bite of his lasagna.

Tony smiles faintly with his reply, "Five years. We were together for twelve, though."

"That's a long time. What did he do for a living?"

"He was a doctor," Tony says quietly, and suddenly his dinner is not that interesting, "He went to Bosnia on a mission and never came back."

Steve reaches across the table, lightly touching the back of Tony's hand, "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that'd be like."

Tony looks up at Steve again, "What about you?"

"Oh, I— I've never been married."

"No boyfriends?" Tony asks, surprised.

"Oh, you meant— oh. I had one boyfriend but that didn't end so well."

"Bad break up?" the older man guesses.

"Yeah. We were together for a year. He broke up with me at my mother's funeral."

"At her funeral?" Tony repeats as if it's going to make any more sense the 2nd time.

"Yeah, we had a meal for the family after and James just— he pulled me aside and told me that he couldn't be with me anymore. I didn't know what happened. As you can imagine, it sort of kept me away from dating for a while. After my mom passed I decided to move here. I just wanted to get away from everything, you know? Start over and move on. Start a new chapter in my life. So I quit my job at my old school and left town. I was lucky enough to find my job at the elementary school here."

"I guess you could say that's what we're doing," Tony says, taking a sip of his wine, "Trying to start over in a new place. Ever since we adopted Peter he's never lived anywhere else. I'm scared he's having a hard time adjusting."

"He's been doing fine," Steve reassures him, "He's so good in class. And he's _so smart_. He loves science, doesn't he?"

Tony can't fight back a smile, "We both do. My husband did, too. God, Steve, I'm just— I'm so _terrified_ that I'm going to screw Peter up for good. I don't know what to with him. I can't even be honest with him. I couldn't even tell him where I was going tonight."

"Why?" Steve inquires.

Tony shrugs, "I guess I thought he'd guilt me into not coming because he still misses Bruce."

"It's probably for the best that he didn't know."

They finish their meal with more small talk and twenty minutes later, Steve leaves momentarily to turn up the iPod dock. When he does Tony can hear some modernized rendition of _Kiss Me_ by Jason Walker floating through the house.

He can't fight back a grin when Steve asks, "Treat me to a dance?"

Tony looks up, staring at Steve for a moment until he realizes that Steve isn't joking. Tony drops his napkin on top of his empty plate, standing up with a playful smirk. He offers a hand to Steve who takes it, standing up as well and allowing himself to be pulled into the direction of Tony's choice. In a nervous movement he reaches up to lace his arms together around Tony's neck as Tony's hands settle on his hips. They move in slow, grade 8 dance steps around Steve's candlelit kitchen until Tony finds the perfect thing to say.

"Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Rogers?"

Steve replies with a flirty smile, "Is it working, Mr. Stark?"

"Judging by the fact that I'm about to kiss you, I'd say yes; it's working."

Steve doesn't have time to say anything else because their feet stop and Tony's leaning in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth. He pulls back slightly only to have Steve steal his own kiss, this one fuller and more sensual. Tony can feel Steve's fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he tightens his arms around Steve, bringing them closer.

Steve sighs softly through his nose, bringing his body flush against Tony's and as soon as Tony slides his tongue over Steve's bottom lip, Tony's phone comes to life in his pocket. He pulls away with a slight jerk. He doesn't want to answer it; he really doesn't but when he grabs it from his pocket he sees that it's Pepper.

"You need to get that?" Steve asks, slightly perturbed.

"It's Pepper," Tony says, "I'm sorry, I've gotta—"

"No, go ahead."

Clearly upset, Steve turns around to grab their empty plates and heads to the sink with them as Tony walks into the living room. Sometime in between the music cuts off and it's silent in the house.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to come home," Pepper says urgently; Tony can hear Peter wailing in the background.

"Is that Peter?"

"Yeah, he's— Peter, _please_!"

Tony hears a door slam and Pepper sighs heavily, "He's been at this for half an hour and I can't get him to calm down. You have to come home."

Tony sighs heavily, still holding the phone to his ear. For the first time in a long time he's actually _happy_. He's enjoying spending time with someone other than Peter and Pepper. They're great and everything, but Tony hasn't felt like this since Bruce died. Tony used to feel like Bruce was the only person that he could ever see himself spending a lifetime with but he's starting to think that maybe Steve could fill a really important void in his life. And as bittersweet as it is for Tony to admit it, he's finally beginning to move on.

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose, "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."

Tony hangs up, stuffing his phone into his pocket on the way back to the kitchen. Steve is at the sink, hands submerged in soapy water.

"I have to go," Tony admits, sounding a bit like an adolescent telling their best friend the same thing.

"Already? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just— well, no. Peter's upset and crying."

Steve nods silently, still not turning around because he doesn't want Tony to see the disappointment in his eyes. He worked so hard for tonight. He fretted over the perfect recipe to make, cleaned extensively, bought candles and did everything he thought he could think of to make tonight special. He even went to the extent to wash his sheets in hopes of maybe getting lucky. But no; Tony is going home before dessert, even, and Steve will be alone once again.

"I'm really sorry," Tony admits quietly.

"No, it's okay; I understand."

"Hey."

Steve hums, "Hm?"

"Steve," Tony whispers softly, reaching out and grabbing the blond man by the sleeve of his shirt, "I really had a nice time. I haven't had a meal like that since before Bruce died. It was really… good."

Tony cringes and suddenly remembers that he's horrible at compliments; in fact, he just used the word 'really' more times than necessary. He's great at speaking and bullshitting a room full of his employees but when it comes to heartfelt confessions he's kind of at a loss. He just needs to reassure Steve that he enjoyed tonight and hopes to do it again.

Steve finally turns around with the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, drying his hands with a dish towel.

"I'm glad you liked it. I'll show you out."

The blond tosses the towel back onto the counter, winding his way through the living room to the front door. He holds it open for Tony and with a nervous glance to the side Steve realizes that his neighbors are outside. He really wants to kiss Tony goodbye but the risk of Mr. and Mrs. Hermann seeing them is too great. But Tony doesn't give a shit about them. He leans in, placing one sweet chaste kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth, much like his kiss in the kitchen earlier.

"I'll call you," Tony says with a tiny smile before turning around and jogging down the steps to his car.

Steve is still standing at the doorway long after Tony drives off. Tonight didn't go exactly as Steve had hoped. Well, to be fair the first half did. But he hoped Tony would stay for dessert and after that he hoped Tony would possibly stay for the night. But Steve has to realize that Tony has a little boy who needs Tony more than anyone else. Steve can't possibly compete with that. So he'll go back inside, do the dishes alone, watch some television alone, and go to bed tonight, still completely alone.

* * *

 

"Oh, thank god," Pepper breathes as soon as Tony walks in the door.

Tony pushes past her when he hears the cries from upstairs and hurries to the 2nd floor, walking down the hall and into Peter's bedroom. He doesn't bother to say anything before pulling his little boy into his arms, shushing him almost immediately.

Peter takes immediate comfort in Tony's embrace, quieting down without much effort on Tony's part. He's comforted just being here in Tony's arms, the warmth and strength surrounding his tiny, insecure body.

"You gonna tell me what this is about?" Tony asks eventually.

Peter simply shakes his head. He just needed to know that Tony wasn't gone. He needed to know that Tony cared about him enough to come home if he cried hard enough. And now he knows.

It's hard enough that Tony left even though he knew Peter didn't want him to. When Tony walked out the front door Peter couldn't help but feel as if he'd been rejected. He just wanted Tony to stay home with him. School is hard and he needs Peter-and-Dad time. Peter doesn't think it's fair for someone to get to spend time with his dad when he hardly sees Tony at all since school started two days ago. He has Pepper, but Pepper isn't Tony, and even though Peter adores her sometimes a little boy just _needs_ his father. Tony has no intentions of falling asleep scrunched up on Peter's tiny bed but when he does, Pepper doesn't bother to wake him.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony and Steve haven't seen each other since Wednesday, and today is Monday. Tony called Steve, as promised, but only to apologize to Steve again. He also promised that they would go out again but not until next week because there's too much stuff going on in the office to make an appropriate arrangements for such a date. Steve deserves all of Tony's attention, not just some of it.

It's a little cooler outside today Steve is staying late to grade today's math worksheets when Phil taps his knuckles against the door frame.

"Got a minute?" he asks.

"Yeah, sure."

Coulson walks in, closing the classroom door and crossing his arms and asking flatly, "Are you dating Tony Stark?"

Steve pauses to search Phil's eyes for a long moment. He can't find any sort of hint or inclination why he would be asking such a question. Natasha surely didn't say anything about their date on Wednesday. How could Coulson possibly know?

"I had him over for dinner," Steve finally answers, "Why do you ask?"

"I got an email this morning saying that someone saw Stark leaving your house Wednesday night."

"I just told you I had him over for dinner. Why is this coming up now?"

"I thought you didn't have time for dating," Coulson says bitterly, ignoring the second question. Steve immediately wonders if Coulson has an ulterior motive behind this confrontation.

"I never said that," Steve replies, immediately on the defensive, "I said it wouldn't be a good idea for us to have lunch because we work together and everyone knows that."

"I don't think dating a student's parent is any better than that, do you?" Phil fires back, "It's a conflict of interest."

"How is it a conflict of interest?"

"Look, Rogers, you're a good teacher and I don't want to have to write you up for this shit."

Steve leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest defensively, "Where does it say that I can't date a student's parent?"

"It doesn't but the school board takes these situations seriously. We could move Peter to another class but they're all full."

"Are you saying—?"

"I'm strongly suggesting that you stop seeing him at least until the end of the year when Peter is out of your class. Everyone in town is talking; you know the way these women gossip."

"Phil, I don't have anyone and Tony—"

"Steve, this isn't personal, alright? It's business." Phil turns around with his hand clutching the door knob. "Other parents are starting to talk and it's not okay. It's just— it's not. It's not fair to me, either."

Coulson walks out, leaving the door open as Steve fights back the emotions that are pulling at his throat. He's seriously confused. There's no question as to who could have possibly seen Tony leaving Steve's house; it had to be his next door neighbors, the Harmanns. Steve's never taken them as the type to mention that sort of thing but then again, they're an older couple who aren't entirely approving of same-sex relationships. Or so it seems.

Steve can't concentrate on grading anymore. He digs his keys out of the desk drawer and flips the classroom light off on the way out the door. Grades can wait; he needs to talk to Tony and he'd prefer not to do it over the phone.

The first stop is by Tony's house which proves to be entirely unhelpful; Tony isn't even home. So Steve decides to try his luck at Clint's coffee shop but to no avail. Steve hadn't wanted to do it, but he finds himself driving down Main Street to the large building that used to be the town grocery store. It's going under extensive construction and sweaty, shirtless men are moving in and out of the place quickly as soon as he walks in.

Steve sighs with relief when he recognizes a familiar face, "Peter!"

The brown-haired boy looks up from his handheld video game, seemingly confused, "Mr. Rogers?"

"Hey," Steve smiles, walking closer to where Peter is splayed out in an armchair, "Is your dad around? I need to talk to him for a second."

Peter nods, pointing around the corner and down the hall. Steve waves to the 7-year-old as a silent 'thank you' and follows Peter's direction, weaving through the construction workers and stopping just outside the appropriately marked door, knocking twice.

"Yeah?" Tony calls. He's typing furiously when Steve walks in, not looking up from the monitor to see who it is, but as soon as Steve speaks Tony's head shoots up.

"Hi," Steve says simply, feeling an unfamiliar heat rising into his cheeks immediately when Tony's eyes are on him.

"Hey! What're you doing here?" Tony asks, unable to hold back a smile. He goes to stand up but immediately decides against the idea, resulting in an awkward little movement that Steve definitely notices.

"I'm sorry," Steve murmurs softly, "I know you're at work and you're busy but—"

"I'm never too busy," Tony clarifies, "What's up?"

Steve crosses the room apprehensively, suddenly feeling as if this isn't the best idea he's ever had and to be fair, it isn't. He's interrupting Tony's work and he feels awkward and doesn't really know what to say. They're dating and everything— _are_ they dating? Steve isn't even sure.

"Sit," Tony says, motioning to the chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

"I should go. I'm sorry."

"No! You should stay because then when Pepper asks why I'm not done with these forms I have the perfect excuse."

Steve sits down, leaning over to rest his arms on the opposite side of Tony's desk, sighing out, "My boss came into my room after school today. Apparently someone saw you leaving my house so now he knows that I— that we..."

"Is there a problem with that or—?"

"Well Phil— he's asked me out several times and I always turned him down because I didn't think it'd be a good idea. I mean, he's my boss. He disapproves of us having dinner together because Peter's in my class and said it was inappropriate."

"So? Wait, how the hell is that inappropriate?"

"He said it was a conflict of interest," Steve shrugs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. It's _just his luck_ for things to take such a turn for the worse so quickly. He should have known something would happen; his happiness never lasts for long.

"Because Peter's in your class?"

"Yeah, he threatened to write me up."

"Can he do that?"

"Yes," Steve nods, finally meeting Tony's eyes, "He said people were talking."

"Well, shit," Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair, "So what— I mean, do we—?"

Tony hears Pepper's heels clicking down the hall and stands up immediately, gesturing for Steve to do the same as he walks around the desk. He places a possessive hand on Steve's hip, leaning in to kiss his cheek as Pepper walks in with an annoyed groan.

"We'll figure it out," Tony whispers, giving the blond a gentle push toward the door, "Go before I get in trouble."

"Okay," Steve replies with a smile, doing just that. He scoots past Pepper and glances over his shoulder at Tony one last time. He's so infatuated that he doesn't hear the loud 'coming through!' before being struck in the temple with a blunt object. The hit is hard enough to cause Steve to stumble and fall into the wall. His ears are ringing immediately from the blow and he doesn't even hear sound of multiple two-by-fours clattering to the floor.

"Oh shit, man, I'm— Steve?"

Steve blinks furiously, trying to clear his vision. Either he was hit on the head a little too hard or he's staring into the face of his ex-boyfriend.

"Bucky?"


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky reaches down, grasping Steve's hand and pulling him to his feet.

"What're you doing here?" Steve asks immediately.

"Working; thought the hard hat kind of gave it away. You?"

"I, uh—" Steve glances back toward Tony's office door and the back to Bucky, "I was just vising someone."

Bucky reaches out to brush his fingers along Steve's temple and mumbling, "Shit, you're bleeding."

"Bad?" Steve does the same, moving Bucky's fingers in the process.

"Nah. You're still clumsy as hell?"

Steve attempts to hold back a smile but fails miserably and lets out a small laugh, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Hey, I've gotta get back to work but we should— could we get together sometime? Catch up? I'll be in town until we're done with the job. By the looks of things it'll take a while. Swing by sometime. I'm in room eight."

"I will," Steve nods, wiping at the shallow wound on his head. He leaves the building without another incident, heading to Natasha's house and _praying_ that she's home because he really needs to talk to her.

Steve's never been so relieved when Natasha answers the door, still in the clothes she wore to work today.

"Look like you just saw a ghost," she jokes immediately.

Steve rolls his eyes, pushing past Natasha and into the streamlined house, heading for the living room where he makes himself comfortable. Natasha decides that this is definitely not normal for Steve to come in without saying anything. He also looks entirely distraught. She closes the door and follows him, plopping down in the arm chair perpendicular to the sofa. When she props her feet up on the coffee table Steve isn't surprised to see her toes painted a deep red color.

"What happened?"

"Where should I start?" Steve retorts and Natasha assumes it's a rhetorical question because she doesn't say anything.

"Coulson came into my room this afternoon and basically threatened to write me up for dating Tony. He said it's a conflict of interest for us to see each other because Peter's in my class."

"How does he know? Wait, are you guys even—? You're officially dating?"

"My neighbor saw him leaving my house, I guess. He said it wasn't personal but we both know better than that."

"That jealous prick."

"I went to tell Tony and I ran into Bucky, literally. I have _the_ worst luck a guy could have."

"Bucky? What's he doing here?"

"Working construction on Tony's office. He told me to stop by his motel room sometime and I—"

"You said you would," Natasha cuts in with an arched eyebrow and an all-knowing smirk, "Jesus, you've got to play hard to get."

If Steve were drinking water he would definitely be choking right now.

" _What_? No, I— that's not what I'm trying to do."

"Coulson, Stark and now your ex? Damn, Rogers, I didn't know you were such a slut."

Steve sits in silence for a few moments as his nostrils flare with angry breaths. He hasn't had his share of accusations and he's certainly _never_ been called a slut. This is definitely new.

"That's unfair," he eventually replies, raising his gaze to meet Natasha's eyes. Steve stands to his feet abruptly, heading for the front door and ignoring when Natasha calls after him.

"Steve! Come on, I was _joking_!"

Steve pauses at the bottom of the steps, looking at his best friend with a no-shit expression.

"Natasha, I like you, I really do. You're a great friend but sometimes you don't know when to shut up."

"I'm sorry," Natasha says again and sounds as if she actually means it. She didn't notice Steve's hurt expression inside of her dimly lit house but now that they're outside in the sunshine it reflects greatly in his crystal blue eyes. Something tells Natasha that Steve hasn't told her absolutely everything about himself.

So, on this gorgeous afternoon Steve drives home to his empty house with no one to greet him but the bills in the mailbox.

* * *

Tony and Pepper are lounging on the porch in the late evening when Tony finally mentions it. Peter has been in bed for about an hour and they've finally found time to themselves. Tony is thinking and Pepper is working at her nails meticulously.

"Pep, I need you to clear my schedule Thursday night."

"I can't do that," Pepper replies immediately, gesturing with her nail file, "We have a town meeting at City Hall."

"Friday night."

"Friday's the town social and I think it'd look bad if you didn't show up."

"Then Saturday! Fuck."

"You promised you'd—"

"Damn it," Tony cuts in, "I need a night off. Is that too much to ask? Make it happen."

Pepper resumes the work on her nails, asking, "What for?"

"For Steve because I owe him after the first date we had. It really sucks because I'm pretty sure I could've spent the night with him."

Pepper groans, "My _god_ , that's what this is about; your irrational need to put your penis inside of someone."

"Okay, no," Tony snaps, "It has been a _long_ time since I've had sex. I don't know if you're capable of realizing this, Pepper, but I _am_ human and my husband _did_ _die_ , so don't act like the only reason I want a night off to be with someone I care about is so I can fuck them. How _dare you_ accuse me of something like that."

Without another word and without listening to Pepper's reasoning, Tony goes back inside the house, letting the screen door slam shut. He gathers his keys and wallet before heading into the garage. He needs to get out and maybe grab a drink or seven.

In the garage next to his Audi is the piece of shit, beat up Mustang that he bought at the auction Saturday night. Tony isn't really sure what he was thinking when he bought it; he doesn't have time to see Steve, much less time to restore the car. But still, he figures that at least it's not getting junked by one of the poor farmers in town.

With a sad sigh Tony climbs into his Audi, starting it up and pulling out onto Main Street. He thinks of going to the bar but remembers that last time he felt this way, he found Java Cakes and Clint's latte improved his mood tenfold, so he heads for the tiny coffee shop in the main strip of businesses.

Tony sits in his idling car for a moment to type a text message.

_Coffee?_

Steve is in the middle of watching _Sherlock_ when his phone bleeps on the coffee table. He doesn't pause the TV because he already knows what happens; he's seen this episode four times already. There's no one around to witness it but Steve's face definitely lights up when he reads the one-word message and he replies as quickly as he can.

_Be right there._

It doesn't even occur to Steve that he has no idea if Tony was referring to Java Cakes and he's headed that way before even asking for a confirmation. He smiles when he sees Tony's ridiculous, impractical Audi parked right in front of the door and pulls in between it and the cop car, hopping out and jogging to the door.

When the door rings Tony immediately slides off his barstool to meet Steve in the middle of the empty café. Steve's arms settle on Tony's hips as he presses a soft, thorough kiss to Tony's mouth because _fuck Coulson_. If he wants to kiss Tony, he's going to. If he wants to date Tony, he's going to. If he wants to fuck Tony, he's going to. If things work out and Tony asks Steve to marry him, he's probably going to.

They break apart before taking side-by-side seats at the bar.

"Coffee, please," Steve calls to Clint who nods silently. He's distracted for a moment when his attention is drawn to Nick Fury, Chief of Police, and Maria Hill, the lone police officer, who are in chairs at the far corner of the cafe.

"Thanks for coming," Tony says, resting his chin in his hand and drawing Steve's attention away from Fury.

"Yeah, of course."

"I just needed company that isn't Pepper or Peter."

"I know that feeling," the blond admits in a whisper.

Steve takes the time to study Tony's features, wondering exactly how old Tony is. It didn't come up at dinner but it's obvious that he's considerably older than Steve. If Steve could guess he'd say at least 10 years younger than Tony. But Tony is actually 48 which is considerably older than Steve's 28 years.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks softly as Clint slides his coffee across the counter, "You look tired."

"I'm exhausted," Tony admits, turning to the younger man.

For the first time Steve can see the bags under Tony's large, brown eyes and at the same time Tony admires the silhouette of Steve's ridiculously long eyelashes. But that isn't enough to keep Tony's eyes from tearing up. As hard as he's tried, he still can't get what Pepper said out of his head and Tony doesn't feel as if he's grieved enough for Bruce. He feels like he's maybe moving on too fast and he's torn because Steve is such a sweetheart. In this moment Tony is fully aware of exactly _how_ vulnerable he can be.

Steve notices the tears in Tony's eyes and hesitates to say something. He looks away in hopes that maybe when he looks back to Tony he'll be smiling the way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners but he isn't. He looks worse than before and Steve stands up and wraps his arms around Tony's shoulders in a sweet hug. He smiles against Tony's hair when he feels Tony's arms come around his waist.

They're like this for a few moments until Tony pulls back, wiping at his eyes. Steve slides back onto his stool and sighs softly, still turned to the older man beside him.

"Do you ever feel like you just need a break?" Tony asks eventually, "A break from everything, just get away and be alone?"

"I'm always alone," Steve answers quietly, "It'd be really great to be… not alone for once, to not spend a night alone, to not wake up alone."

Tony nods, thinking for a long moment. As of right now Tony's weekend is clear and he has full intentions on keeping it that way. He'd love to take the weekend away from Peter and Pepper and go to the city with Steve. The idea of just the two of them sharing each other's company in a new city is strangely romantic and the feeling he gets just _thinking_ about it is one that isn't going to leave him alone until the plans are made and the trip is completed.

"Are you busy this weekend?" Tony asks suddenly, eyes flickering up to Steve's gorgeous face.

"No."

"Come to the city with me for the weekend."

Steve can't hold back a smile when he asks, "What city?"

"Hell, I don't know. It doesn't matter, just come with me."

He doesn't even care about how irrational it sounds. He doesn't care that he and Tony haven't known each other long enough to even know each other's birthdays. They have a connection that neither of them can deny nor ignore.

Steve can't fight the smile that's playing on his lips when he asks, "How could I say no to that?"

"Good. That's— okay!"

Tony grins, his stature improving greatly and his eyes are bright once more. The tiny bell above the shop door dings and Tony looks past Steve to see Coulson and one of the school administrators walk in, still dressed in their work suits. Steve turns to his coffee, which is nearly cold by now, and downs it in a few drinks. He pays Clint before he's bound to forget and sits down beside Tony, fully aware that Coulson is in the café and drawing the conclusion that the two of them are here to meet Fury and Hill. He doesn't think anything of it until he and Coulson make eye contact and then Steve is nudging Tony.

"We should go," he whispers.

Tony nods, following Steve out to the parking lot where they stand between their cars. Tony leans back against his Audi and Steve stands in front of him, leaning in for a soft departure kiss.

"I can't wait for this weekend," Steve admits.

Tony presses another kiss to Steve's mouth before resting their foreheads together.

"Me either."


	9. Chapter 9

Tony and Pepper haven't really spoken since Monday night aside from work and Peter-related things. Tony never again mentioned what Pepper said on the porch and Pepper doesn't know how she'd go about apologizing to Tony if he were to bring it up. The remainder of the week is uneventful and aside from flirty text messages Steve and Tony don't hear much from each other.

Peter seems to be doing better lately. He isn't as clingy and overall seems to be happy in school which is a pleasant surprise for everyone. Thursday evening when Tony is working on his scrapped Mustang Peter comes into the garage and he's all smiles.

"Dad, can I go?" Peter asks excitedly.

"Go where?"

Peter thrusts a card up to his dad and Tony takes it, noticing that it's a birthday invitation for Saturday afternoon.

"Gwen's party! Can I go?"

Tony smiles and grabs Peter, hoisting him onto the hood of the car.

"You can go on one condition," Tony answers, "I have to go somewhere for the weekend so I won't be home tomorrow night or Saturday night. I'll be back on Sunday. You can only go if you promise to let me go on my trip without a fuss."

Peter's face remains blank as he processes the information. His dad will be gone for the weekend and he doesn't want him to go. But Gwen's birthday party is also this weekend and Peter's looking forward to that more than anything. And Pepper will be here and she'll take Peter to buy Gwen's birthday present on Saturday morning. Maybe it won't be so bad without Tony here.

"Will you come back?" Peter asks quietly, still a little unsure.

"Of course," Tony smiles, kissing Peter's forehead, "Don't I always?"

Peter nods finally, "Yeah."

"You promise you'll let me go without a fuss?"

"I promise."

Tony grabs Peter in his arms, hoisting him onto his hip with some difficulty before heading back into the house. Tony's had enough alone time for the night.

* * *

Pepper didn't have much to say when Tony told her he was taking Steve to Wichita for the weekend; she couldn't argue against it if she wanted to. Tony told her that Peter was fine with it and Pepper made sure that was the truth before she made hotel reservations. She didn't even mention that Tony would be missing the town social because it was fruitless; Tony's heart was already set on going.

As of now Steve is waiting on his porch when Tony pulls up in the Suburban. He can't hide the smile on his face when he grabs his duffel bag and walks out to the SUV, tossing his luggage in the back and buckling his seat belt.

"You don't know how happy I am that you didn't bring your other car," Steve admits with a smile.

"You don't know how happy I am that you agreed to come on this trip with me," Tony replies without hesitation.

"Peter was okay with it?"

"Oh, yeah, he has a birthday party to go to tomorrow so he was fine. Pepper made us reservations but with the traffic and everything we should get in town by 6. If it's cool with you I thought we could check into the hotel and then grab something to eat?"

"That's fine with me."

* * *

As promised Tony and Steve grab dinner at an Italian café and hit up a movie theatre just across the street from their hotel. They stay for 2 movies the time they're out of the 2nd one it's 1 AM and they head back to the hotel room, hand-in-hand.

Steve steals kisses from Tony in the elevator and he's a giddy, excited mess inside by the time they're back up to the room. He pulls Tony to the single bed where they settle down with soft whispers and long, languid kisses to each other's lips. Steve can't believe this is happening. He can't believe that Tony is here with him in this city that neither of them has ever been to. He can't believe that he has Tony to himself for the entire weekend. He can't believe he's about to have sex for the first time in 3 years.

His wandering hands make it to the edge of Tony's jeans where he pops the button easily but he's alarmed when Tony's hands catch his own.

"Steve, I'm—"

Tony can't finish the rest of his sentence. He distances himself by about a foot and stares down at the hotel carpet. If he had any idea Steve would be so eager he would've had Pepper book a room with 2 beds. Of course Tony wants Steve, just not here; it doesn't feel right. At least not yet.

"Sorry," Steve murmurs awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

Steve finds himself in a similar predicament, somewhat ashamed and unable to meet Tony's eyes.

"It's late," Tony cuts in. He can't exactly tell Steve that he's apprehensive about sex because he hasn't had sex with anyone since Bruce passed away. They're silent for several moments until Steve speaks again.

"I'm gonna take a shower."

Steve moves from the bed, digging through his luggage for a moment for a clean t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. He disappears through the bathroom door, not allowing Tony to see the disappointment on his face yet again.

By the time Steve is bathed and dressed in pajamas Tony is already in bed and Steve climbs in beside him, sliding under the blankets.

"You asleep?"

"Not yet," Tony replies with a slight smile. He turns over to face Steve, leaning in and kissing him lightly.

Steve reaches up to stroke Tony's cheek with his fingers and smiles back, whispering, "Goodnight."

Steve is unaware of just howtired he was because he's asleep within moments of lying down while Tony tosses and turns. He watches Steve sleep on and off for 3 hours before he decides that he isn't going to get any sleep tonight; he's too deep in thought. He pulls himself out of bed and stumbles over to the arm chair.

As much as Tony was looking forward to this weekend he's regretting this entire trip now. The more time he has to think in the dark, silent hotel room with Steve sleeping soundly nearby the more guilt eats at his heart.

The moment Tony met Bruce he was instantly attracted to him. Tony was on his way out of the country and was required to get several vaccinations and clearance from his physician for the trip. Tony's regular doctor was on vacation the day of the appointment and Tony was scheduled to see Dr. Banner. To say that it was love at first sight is boring and cliché but for Bruce and Tony it's true.

Their entire 12 year relationship went without much conflict. Tony had never had such a relationship with anyone before; almost everything they did together went without a hitch. Still to this day Tony doesn't know what he ever did to deserve Bruce.

The idea of adoption came shortly before their 5th wedding anniversary. Adopting a Caucasian male baby is a tough feat in the States but Tony and Bruce had plenty of monetary resources so it took less time than it should have. Naturally Tony was apprehensive about becoming a father because his own father was such a shitty one but Bruce was adamant that Tony could find his niche in his parental role.

It took Tony longer than it should have to warm up to Peter. Sure, he loved him, but every time Tony would hold Peter as an infant Peter would burst into tears immediately. Even now Tony always seems to screw up when it comes to Peter and parenting is that much harder without Bruce here for guidance and reassurance.

Despite what anyone could ever tell Tony he still believes that Bruce's death is his own fault. Bruce brought up at dinner that he had the opportunity to go to Bosnia on a mission but Peter begged him not to. After dinner they settled down in the king sized bed with Peter between them and talked about how everything would be fine. Bruce promised to bring Peter something really cool when he came back. Tony reminded Peter that Pepper would come over to stay with them while Bruce was away. After that, Peter finally felt reassured enough to let the issue drop.

Bruce was in Bosnia for 2 days before the riot occurred. Tony never got the full story, he never wanted to hear it; it was enough to know how his husband had died. He could draw conclusions from the fact that they were advised to have a closed casket ceremony.

The months after Bruce was buried Tony finally found himself able to unpack his husband's luggage. Beneath all of the clothes, wrapped in Bruce's purple bathrobe to protect it from begging broken was a small souvenir piggy bank in the shape of a pyramid meant for Peter. Tony wasn't sure that things could get worse for him after that but they did. He couldn't bring himself to leave the house for days. He kept Peter home from school just to know that he was safe. Work was out of the question; Stark Resources could wait. It took Pepper the entire following weekend to talk Tony out of the pit he'd fallen into.

With all of this, even now, Tony is beginning to feel as though he never deserved Bruce or Peter, that he owes them so much more than he could ever pay back in his entire lifetime. Although Peter is adopted and isn't Bruce's biological son, he still has all the admirable attributes that Bruce held. That's when Tony realizes exactly _how_ horrible he's been to Peter lately: brushing him off with bribes of buying him things, passing Peter off to Pepper when he's tired of being a father, rushing to put Peter to bed just so that he can be alone, leaving Peter for the entire weekend so he can get away to be with Steve in a different city. It isn't fair and Peter doesn't deserve that.

Tony blinks with dry eyes and glances over to the glowing alarm clock next to the bed. It's 4:30 AM and if Tony leaves now he can be back home by 7 which would assure that he'd be there when Peter woke up.

Tony's gaze lands on Steve, asleep on his side with the most angelic expression Tony's ever seen. Tony feels like he should wait for Steve to get up but he can't. He couldn't stand to see the disappointment in Steve's eyes again if he were to tell him that he was going home earlier than expected.

So, as quickly as he can Tony collects his things from around the room and the bathroom, shoving them into his luggage and thumbing through his wallet. He anticipated spending a lot of money this weekend and had an excess amount of cash on hand which proves to be entirely useful. He leaves $250 worth of 50 dollar bills on the night stand under Steve's cell phone and sneaks out of the room, closing the door silently.

Tony actually hates himself for doing this to Steve but Peter is his son and Peter deserves more than Tony could ever give him.

* * *

When Pepper comes down for morning coffee she's alarmed to find Tony's luggage strewn at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes flash to the key hook to see Tony's keys dangling there and then to the entry table where his wallet and cell phone sit.

"Surprised?" Tony asks quietly from where he's huddled on the sofa.

Pepper literally jumps, turning around in sheer surprise and Tony throws her a small wave.

"What happened?" Pepper inquires.

"I couldn't sleep. I was up all night thinking about Bruce and Peter and I… Peter doesn't deserve this. I felt like I should be here with him," he explains, shrugging. "I left Steve money for a ride back and sent him a text explaining everything."

Pepper decides that coffee can wait and she takes a seat next to Tony, wrapping her robe around herself and crossing her arms.

"I'm not sure you should've done that."

"I know," he sighs out, "And it probably ruined any chance of a relationship I could have with Steve but Peter will always be here and I have no idea if things with Steve would've lasted. Peter's the last piece of Bruce I have left and I would be incredibly stupid to take that for granted."

Pepper leans over to kiss Tony on the cheek lightly.

"I'm proud of you, Tony."

Tony's lips curve in a half smile and he retorts, "Thanks, _Mom_."

* * *

Steve wakes shortly after 8 o'clock, the room still dark with streams of light coming in through the cracked drapes at the window. He sits up with weary eyes, glancing around the room. It's silent; there's no way that Tony could be in the shower and he isn't in bed.

"Tony?" he calls out, his own voice seeming to echo in his ears.

Steve pushes himself to the edge of the bed and grabs his phone, noticing the stack of bills under it and frowning. He unlocks his phone and sure enough, he has a text from Tony.

_Hey. I'm really sorry but I had to leave early this morning. I didn't want to wake you so I left enough money for a ride back to town. You're such a sweet guy and you're so much fun to be with but I feel like Peter needs my attention now more than ever. I'll call you when I'm back in town._

_xo_

Steve has to read the message several times for it to sink in. He's aware that tears are slipping down his cheeks but he can't help it because _it isn't fair_. Tony builds him up, promises things, and then just blows him off like he's nothing. Steve's never been treated like this. He's never had anyone jerk him around and play with his heart the way Tony Stark does. Steve should be more understanding but he just feels like a worthless, desperate loser because he shouldn't feel this way. He shouldn't care; he should be stronger, more independent, and happier.

But he can't. Steve can't be strong. He can't be independent and in a violent burst of anger Steve hurls his cell phone against the wall, not caring if it wakes up whoever may be sleeping next door, not caring that it's so immature and childish, not caring that it completely shatters his screen because no matter what Steve will _never_ be good enough.


	10. Chapter 10

It took 4 hours for Steve to pull himself together this morning. He gathered his dignity – or what's left of it – and his fucked up cell phone and left the hotel. He wandered around the city for a while before finally calling a cab.

He doesn't hear from Tony when he gets back home, not that he's surprised. He doesn't expect to hear from Tony at all, maybe not ever again. He doesn't want to see Natasha or Clint and decided on the cab ride home he would stop by the motel to see Bucky. It isn't a revenge thing; it's a loneliness thing. Even after their break-up they remained civil until Steve could move his belongings out of their apartment. When Steve's things were gone reality really began to sink in for Bucky.

Steve's 2-year teaching contract was up at his school anyway and he decided several days after he moved into his own place apartment he should look for a job elsewhere. He searched for teaching openings online and found the one in the tiny town in Kansas to be the most appealing. He figured he could get away from the city and everything else that had failed him in life thus far. He went for the interview and they called him a week later to offer him the job.

Bucky had actually tried to contact Steve about 3 months after Steve moved to Kiowa. He would call and leave messages and send texts and emails explaining how much he regretted the decision to break off their relationship. Steve never bothered to reply and Bucky gave up after a while, staying in Oklahoma City to work for the current construction company he's with now.

Upon returning home Steve doesn't even unpack his duffel bag, he simply tosses it in the living room and freshens up before heading back out the door. He could take the car but he doesn't feel like it; the evening is tolerable with an overcast sky and stagnant air but Steve decides to walk. The motel is only a few minutes away and Bucky is sitting out by the motel pool with his feet propped up on the table when Steve walks into the courtyard. Bucky is shirtless and still sweat-slicked from the long work day, head thrown back in exhaustion, totally oblivious to the fact that Steve approached him. He takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing out slowly.

"Is this a bad time?" Steve asks awkwardly. He's just looking for an excuse to turn around and go back home.

Bucky jumps in his seat, his feet coming off the table and looking up in surprise.

"Steve! Hey, you're— you actually came by."

He tosses his cigarette butt to the ground, stomping it out with his steel-toed work boot and standing to his feet, clearly trying to pull himself together in front of his unexpected visitor. But he's still in his tattered jeans and his hair is disheveled from a long, tiring day of construction.

"You worked today?" Steve assumes, fighting to keep his eyes from sweeping over Bucky's naked torso. He's still as toned and tanned as he was when Steve saw him 3 years ago.

"Yeah." Bucky pulls a chair over, motioning for Steve to sit down.

"Actually, can we go inside?" Steve asks innocently. Not that it's any of Bucky's business, but if Tony were to drive by this would look really incriminating.

Bucky nods and stands up, giving Steve that same old half-smile.

"What's the matter, too hot for you out here?"

Steve shrugs shyly, following Bucky back the small room and closing the door. He takes a seat on the unmade bed, looking up to meet Bucky's eyes for the first time.

"People in this town talk, that's all."

Bucky hums, "Yeah, the guys I work with are the same way."

He settles at the small table, leaning back in the chair and propping his feet up beside Steve on the bed. Steve is a little irritated at the fact that Bucky still didn't bother to put a shirt on but he doesn't let it show.

Steve is the first to ask, "How've you been?"

"The same. Still living in our old place. You?"

Steve inwardly cringes at the word 'our' and shrugs again.

"Okay, I guess. I have a job at the school."

"Yeah, I figured when I heard we got the contract here I would come across you sooner or later. This town's tiny as shit."

"I know," Steve replies quietly. "That's what I like about it."

"What do you do for fun?" Bucky asks, seriously perplexed. As far as he can tell, the entire place shuts down at 8 o'clock.

"I don't know. I keep to myself mostly. I have a couple of friends and we'll go out for coffee a few times a month."

"Still the wild thing you were three years ago, huh?" Bucky laughs. Steve smiles faintly, breaking his gaze soon after.

"Do you wanna... spend the night by any chance?" Bucky asks finally, fidgeting nervously and picking at the hole in his jeans. "We could rent a movie and order a pizza."

Steve takes less time to think about it than he should. He knows it's a bad idea and it's immature and irrational. He'll probably even feel guilty about it in the morning but right now spending the night with an old lover is exactly what Steve needs.

"I can't promise you anything," Steve replies after a long minute of silence.

"What do you mean?" Bucky pauses for a moment until he realizes just what Steve was implying and looks down at the ugly carpet to avoid Steve's eyes. "Steve, god, no. I-I'm not asking you to sleep with me or anything. I just thought we could both use each other's company."

"What about your construction buddies?" Steve asks, "Won't they say anything?"

"It's none of their damn business."

* * *

As promised the Bucky and Steve take a trip down to the DVD rental box outside of the convenience store and head back to Bucky's motel room with a large pepperoni pizza from Gambino's Pizza Parlor. They chose to rent _Looper_ because it definitely wouldn't be as awkward to watch together as a romantic comedy would have been.

They sprawl on the bed, pizza box between them, watching the movie in silence. By the time it's over Steve is both physically and emotionally exhausted. He settles down on his side of the bed having taken his jeans off beforehand, lying on his back.

Bucky ventures to the bathroom and returns shirtless with his pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. He slides into bed, flipping the light off without a word and they're both asleep within minutes.

* * *

"You going to bed?" Pepper asks, poking her head into the kitchen where Tony is sitting over a glass of scotch. He's wearing Bruce's old robe again and Pepper takes this as a bad sign.

"I fucked up," Tony mumbles quietly, "I fucked up bad, Pep."

With a sigh Pepper crosses the kitchen, sitting down at the breakfast table. Tony raises his glassy brown eyes to look at her.

"I went by Steve's house on the way back from dropping Peter at Gwen's party and he wouldn't answer the door. I know he was home because I saw his luggage in the living room and his car was in the driveway.

" _You looked in his windows_?" she gasps.

"I was desperate," Tony replies sourly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I fucked up so bad. He doesn't want anything to do with me."

"I'm sure it'll blow over."

"No it won't," Tony insists, "It's all my fault. God, I'm such a dumbass."

"You're not a dumbass, Tony; you're just confused. Did you explain to him about Bruce? Does he know how long you were married for?"

"He knows," Tony whispers.

"Then I'm sure he's just upset. Give him some time to cool down and then go talk to him."

Tony seems a little less bothered when Pepper stands up and leans down to kiss the top of his hair.

"Night, Tony. Get some sleep, you'll feel better," she suggests before walking out.

Tony waits until Pepper is gone to let his tears fall.

* * *

The intense sunlight streaming through the cracked door is what wakes Steve 7 hours later. He sits up wearily, squinting.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah, it's me," he answers, setting down a box and two to-go style coffee cups. "I went for donuts and coffee."

Steve can't help but smile at Bucky's endearing gesture. He slides to the edge of the bed and stands to his feet.

"That's sweet," the blond replies eventually. "Thanks for this."

"No problem."

"No, I mean for last night. I had a really horrible morning yesterday and I just— this helped me forget about it. It felt like old times, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Bucky replies with a slight nod, his eyes fixated on Steve. He settles at the table and Steve takes the chair opposite of his, reaching for a glazed donut. He finally gathers the courage to ask Steve the question he'd wanted to ask back at Tony's office last week.

"Why didn't you ever answer me when I tried to contact you after you left town?"

Steve chews slowly to avoid the question as he thinks up an answer. Bucky can't be serious; it's a little obvious _why_ Steve wouldn't want to give him another chance.

"Bucky, you broke up at me after my mom's funeral. Her _funeral_. You can't blame a guy for that."

"I know but I— I apologized and you still didn't return my calls. I wrote you letters."

"I know," Steve nods. He doesn't tell Bucky that he read them, all 13 of them, and that he still has them in his dresser drawer.

"I was just upset," Steve explains, "I wanted to be alone."

"You don't know how bad I regret that," Bucky murmurs, not meeting Steve's eyes as he picks at his donut, tearing it into tiny pieces and leaving them in a pile.

"Would you ever—?" Bucky doesn't have to finish the question; Steve knows _exactly_ what he's getting at.

"I don't know," Steve admits, "I'd have to think about it long and hard."

Steve doesn't even mention Tony but in his heart he's still holding out that Tony will get his shit together and overcome everything to be with him.

"I can wait," Bucky replies with a half-smile.


	11. Chapter 11

Bucky nudges the blond man gently on the arm.

"Steve."

Steve jerks awake. "Huh?"

"Your alarm's going off." Bucky smiles as he sits down on the edge of the bed with a cup of coffee, leaning over to kiss Steve's forehead. He's already dressed for work in tattered jeans and a black tank top.

The blond pushes himself into a sitting position, slinging his legs over the side of the bed and stands up, the white motel sheet wrapped loosely around his naked body.

"Can I take a shower?" Steve asks, receiving an affirmative. He heads to the tiny shower stall and glances in the mirror, the red bruises on his neck and shoulders just another painful reminder that Tony still hasn't called.

* * *

Steve gets to work early because he can't stand to sit around in Bucky's empty hotel room after he leaves. Steve can't even admit to the fact that Tony hasn't called him. He really thought— he _really_ believed Tony would follow through. He thought their attraction towards one another was equal. But as usual, Steve is left feeling like he's never good enough so he might as well succumb to the fact that he's probably going to get back together with the ex-boyfriend that dumped him on the day of his mother's funeral.

Steve unlocks his empty classroom and sits down at his desk, slumped over the paper mess. He isn't usually this disorganized but he honestly doesn't give a shit anymore. He doesn't really care about anything. He doesn't stay after class to straighten or organize the room. For the past few days as soon as he's off the clock he heads home, grabs anything he may need for the night and then he's off to spend yet another night in Bucky's motel room.

He's alone in the classroom until the other teachers start filing in. He isn't surprised when Natasha pops in the room and closes the door.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asks.

As soon as Steve's void eyes look up at her, the pain evident on his face, Natasha's expression softens. She crosses the room and shoves the papers aside, sliding onto the edge of Steve's desk and looking over at him.

"What happened?"

Steve reaches out to play with a pen, twirling it between his fingers, just so he has something to do other think about not breaking down in front of Natasha.

"Tony still hasn't called me."

Natasha sighs softly, pursing her lips. "There's nothing that says you can't call him, you know."

"No, it's fine. He's made it entirely clear to me that he doesn't have time for me or a relationship. It's all _fine._ "

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you. You've just been distant ever since you went on your weekend getaway. I went by your house last night and you weren't home. Where were you?"

"Not home."

Natasha gives Steve a half-smile. "Are you sleeping with Stark?"

Steve shakes his head silently.

"Then what _happened?"_

Steve leans forward, bracing his elbows on his desk resting his head in his hands, "Tony left early the first night we were in the hotel."

"What?" Natasha gasps, "Why?"

"We went to dinner and the movies and then back to the room. He left sometime when I was asleep and gave me money to take a cab back. He said he'd call me when he got back to town but he hasn't called. It's been almost a week; he isn't going to call."

Natasha reaches forward, placing a gentle hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispers softly, "That really fucking sucks."

"Yeah," Steve breathes in agreement.

"So where have you been?"

"It's nothing, okay? Don't worry about where I've been."

"Clint and I are worried about you."

 _Great_. Sympathy is the last thing Steve needs. He's so confused and he doesn't need Natasha hovering over him. He's so confused by all the things he's feeling. When he's with Bucky it goes away for a little while. Bucky makes Steve laugh which feels good because Steve hasn't had that in a long time.

As Natasha is staring at Steve she notices a small red mark on the side of his neck, visible only because of the position that Steve's sitting in.

"Is that a—?" Natasha reaches over to touch the bruised skin, pulling gently at Steve's checkered shirt.

"Natasha..." Steve jerks away, looking up at her again. "Please don't. Don't judge me and don't ask me questions. I love you and I know you care about me— I appreciate that. But this isn't any of your business."

Natasha gives him a nod, just the slightest downward jerk of her head, and slides off his desk.

"You're right," she amends, "I'm your friend but this is none of my business." She turns around, walking out the door silently.

Steve buries his face in his hands once more. It seems like all he can do lately is push away the people that care about him. But Natasha is nosey and Steve doesn't think it's any of her business who he is or isn't sleeping with. He really needs to get his mind off of everything so he pulls his phone out, the spider web crack in the screen yet another painful reminder of what happened, and sets the music on shuffle. Within ten minutes the papers on his desk are straight and filed away once again.

By 7:45 kids begin streaming into his room and Steve stands at the door just like he does any other day. He isn't even paying attention until Peter addresses him.

"Hey, Mr. Rogers!" Peter beams, glancing up Steve.

Looking down at Peter, Steve's immediately brightens. "Hey, Peter."

"Steve?"

Steve is reluctant to look up again because _oh god_. He knows that voice. He glances at the speaker's shoes only to confirm the worst. Why the hell would Tony think this was the appropriate place to finally show up to talk?

He raises his eyes slowly, trying immensely not to lose control of his emotions. His eyes are teary when he looks at Tony immediately and he can't help it. It's totally humiliating already and Steve hasn't even said a word.

"I'm— I'm sorry I haven't called you," Tony finally admits, taking a step toward Steve. "Pepper's been on me about the company and things have been crazy for work. We're working on getting all of these contracts for the fracking sorted out. The office is crazy and everything's so..."

The more Tony talks the harder it is for Steve to hold back his tears. He has to blink, though, and when he does two single tears fall down his cheeks and Tony... Tony looks _defeated_.

"I'm so sorry about last weekend, I—"

"Tony, not— not here, okay?" Steve whispers finally. He wipes at his eyes and from the corner of his eye he notices Mrs. Walker glaring at the two of them menacingly. "Please leave."

"Can we talk about it? I think if I explained things to you—"

"Later," Steve breaks in again as more tears slip down his cheeks, "Not here."

Tony nods, completely understanding, and reaches up to wipe a tear from Steve's left cheek. "Do you want to meet at Java Cakes? Or your house?"

"We— tonight, maybe," Steve nods. "I'll text you when I figure out a time."

Tony nods again and hesitates before pressing a soft, quick kiss to Steve's moist cheek. He walks away without another word.

* * *

At 3:30 in the afternoon Steve leaves the school and heads for the motel. He fully intended on going home but he just couldn't go home to an empty house for hours until Tony came over. When Bucky walks through the door at 5:00 Steve is passed out on the bed. After a shower, Bucky settles down on the bed next to Steve and runs a hand through Steve's blond hair, eyes sweeping over Steve's face. Bucky's always loved the way Steve's eyelashes are so long they cast shadows on his cheekbones. He loves Steve's lips, so full and pink and gentle, and he loves Steve's cheek bones. That's just the _physical_. Bucky loves everything about Steve, even the way he looks when he's mad, even the way he talks during an argument.

The only reason Bucky ever ended things with Steve was because he didn't want to deal with Steve grieving. He knows how intense Steve's feelings can be and he'd never dealt with anything like that before. Honestly, things between them had been rough for several weeks before Sarah's death. Her death was just the final tragic chapter of Steve's and Bucky's relationship. Even now, Bucky still has feelings for Steve, and he's hoping that he's redeeming himself for the things he did years ago.

It isn't until Bucky settles an arm over Steve's hip that Steve stirs. With a quiet groan he reaches out for his cell phone on the bedside table, squinting at the cracked screen to see the time.

"Hey," Bucky murmurs into his neck, "Long day?"

"Mmm," Steve sighs, "Not, just tired. You?"

"It was okay." Bucky searches for Steve's free hand and when he finds it he intertwines their fingers loosely.

"I— my friend Natasha's coming over later tonight," Steve begins quietly. "So I might not be able to sleep over, is that—?"

"It's fine." Bucky leans up just a little, pressing a kiss to Steve's jaw. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

In this moment Steve couldn't help but think of Tony.

"Right."


	12. Chapter 12

Steve is in the kitchen when he hears Tony's knock at the door. He hasn't even bother to change out of his school clothes. His house is messy - not incredibly so - but it's not as immaculate as the last time Tony came over. There are no scented candles lit and no soft music playing. It's just Steve in his house waiting on Tony.

Steve takes a deep breath to steady himself momentarily before pulling the front door open. He flashes Tony a half-smile and opens the door, gesturing.

"Come in," he murmurs softly.

Tony nods, stepping inside and waiting until Steve closes the door to pass a cup of warm coffee into Steve's hand.

"I stopped by Java Cakes," Tony explains with a gesture. He makes himself comfortable in the brown arm chair next to the sofa and smoothes the fabric of his slacks. Steve takes a sip of his coffee and follows Tony, sitting down on the couch diagonal from him.

Tony isn't sure what he's going to say or how he's going to begin so he just starts talking because he's always been pretty good at winging things.

"I— Steve, I am _so sorry_ about everything. I should have called you when I got back into town like I said I would. You have every right to be mad at me and I understand if you don't want anything to do with me after this. But I just need you to know something: I like you a lot and I care about you. I _really_ do. But Peter comes first. When Bruce died I— we both went through so much. He was just a baby when it happened — well, he's still my baby — and I tend to put him on the back burner more than I should. I take him for granted like I did Bruce and I'm terrified that he's going to grow up before I realize it.

"The reason I left you in the hotel was because I felt like I should have been at home with my son. He deserves more than I could _ever_ give him and so do you. If I could do it over again I would have at least waited for you to wake up. I can understand why you're upset with me and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see my sorry ass ever again. You deserved to know the truth. I should have told you right after the fact."

Steve nods slowly, taking another sip of his coffee as he comes up with a response.

"Tony, I— I've never felt so cheated in my entire life. I understand why you left but the way you did it was all wrong. I feel like all you ever do is build me up and promise me things and then..." Steve trails off, unable to meet Tony's eyes.

"You have to understand from my standpoint. I'm coming out of a twelve year relationship. I'm a little rusty with the dating stuff and I'm still grieving for my husband. I would say that I probably shouldn't even try to date right now but Steve, you— you are so sweet and caring and I would really like to give this a shot," he finishes quietly. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a few quiet moments.

"I get it," Steve finally murmurs, "I know that Peter comes first and I can't imagine going through what you've gone through. I can understand that you're having commitment issues but if you don't want to do this—"

"I want to!" Tony breaks in quickly, "Steve, I want this more than anything right now and if you're willing to forgive me for being such an asshole I'm more than ready to move on from this."

Steve sits in silence as he contemplates Tony's offer. He does, he wants _so badly_ to keep seeing Tony. He wants things to get serious and he wants Tony to be around forever because Tony makes him feel invincible and happy and most importantly like someone _cares_.

"I'm willing to move past it if you are," the blond finally answers.

Tony nods and a genuine smile of relief spreads across his mouth. "Good. You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that. From now on I won't make promises I can't keep."

"I'd appreciate that," Steve replies, setting his cup on the table and standing up to show Tony out. In the doorway Tony reaches up to brush a stray piece of Steve's quaffed hair aside with a smile that causes his eyes to wrinkle at the corners. He trails his fingers over Steve's skin, resting his thumb just beneath his cheekbone, and his fingers just barely touch Steve's ear.

"You are _so_ beautiful," Tony whispers. He leans in and presses his mouth to the corner of Steve's lips, still grinning. He feels Steve's fingers clutch at the material of his dress shirt and his arms automatically wrap around Steve's waist. Steve lets out a small whine, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and he feels himself being pressed against the door frame.

He parts his lips in invitation for Tony's tongue to slide in and groans when it does. His hands slide around to the back of Tony's shirt, roaming and feeling every understated muscle in Tony's back.

Tony quickly breaks the kiss with a soft smack of their lips, trailing his mouth down Steve's jaw and to his neck, sucking tiny bruises against the pale skin.

"T-Tony?" Steve stutters, his fingers tangling in Tony's dark hair, tugging gently at the roots.

"Hm?" Tony hums in response, his hands sliding around to Steve's taught belly and up to his chest.

"Do you want to—"

"Yes," Tony breaks in immediately, already knowing the question. He pulls away and Steve tugs him toward the bedroom, flipping on the light. Tony toes off his shoes and removes his socks because he thinks wearing socks during sex is weird. Steve is down to his underwear within minutes – tight black briefs that barely even hold all of his ass – and he approaches Tony, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him in for a kiss.

Steve's mouth swallows Tony's moan as Steve's nimble fingers unbutton Tony's white dress shirt. He pulls away only for a moment to slip the tie over Tony's head. He pulls back long enough to notice the long scar down the center of Tony's chest but doesn't mention anything as he pushes the shirt off Tony's shoulders.

"I'm a little rusty," Tony whispers self-consciously as Steve's fingers undo Tony's pants and slide them down.

"It's fine," Steve chuckles, grabbing Tony by the hand and pulling him to the bed. Steve falls onto his back, legs spread in invitation for Tony who falls between them. He leans over, grabbing the waistband of Steve's black briefs between his teeth and tugging at them, completely taking Steve by surprise. He pulls back with a crooked smile, pulling them down Steve's hips and off his feet, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

"O-oh," Tony breathes, taking in Steve's completely naked form because _wow_. Everything about Steve is gorgeous and Tony is at a loss for words.

"Come here," Steve whispers giddily, beckoning Tony with a few fingers. Tony complies, lying completely on top of Steve. He rolls his hips down against Steve's, groaning as he does so, and closes his eyes. He's seriously going to come from this alone if Steve doesn't let up soon. He doesn't so Tony has to pull away.

"Steve, it- it's been a while," he begins quietly, "I-I'm won't—"

"Hush," Steve whispers sweetly. He leans up enough to tug at Tony's boxers and Tony removes them the rest of the way, kicking them off his feet.

Steve leans forward and kisses Tony on the mouth before grabbing the bottle of lube that's sitting out in the nightstand from where he left it nights ago. He hands it to Tony with another kiss and moves out from beneath him.

"Can you lay on your side for me? Perfect," Tony coos as Steve complies. He settles down behind Steve, pressed flush against his back. They're silent until the pop of the lid breaks through the air. Tony slicks his fingers with lube and traces them around Steve's ass, sliding two of them in as he kisses the back of Steve's neck.

"This okay?" Tony asks, unsure.

"Mm, good," Steve sighs and pushes back into Tony's fingers greedily, moaning just a little. "I— I usually don't need much prepping," he admits softly.

Tony adds a third finger, working quickly to stretch the blond man. "I can see that," he replies, delayed.

"I'm good," Steve insists, "C'mon, let's go."

Tony pulls his fingers out and pushes Steve onto his belly, straddling him and pushing into his slick ass slowly. He bits his bottom lip at the feeling of the tight heat around his cock and rendered speechless at the feeling because it's been _so long_.

"Oh, Steve," he groans quietly, beginning to move in slow, agonizing thrusts. He notices the way Steve's fingers curl around the sheets and Tony grins at the small sign of reassurance. Soon he's thrusting in slow, deep, thorough motions, moving smoothly and leaning down to completely spread across Steve's back, still moving.

"Tony," Steve moans softly, shutting his eyes tightly in ecstasy. He manages to bring his knees closer to his chest, giving Tony a better angle, and begins to rock back and forth to meet Tony's thrusts, groaning louder.

Without warning Tony slides back so he's kneeling behind Steve, pushing into him and gripping his hips. He's close already, as embarrassing as it is, but with the new angle Tony's cock brushes against Steve's prostate in every movement. He kisses the back of Steve's hair and reaches around cautiously, taking Steve's much thicker cock in his hand. He runs his thumb over the head gently and pulls and tugs in synchronization with his own movements.

Steve moans and grunts with each thrust that Tony makes. Granted, Tony isn't nearly as good in bed as Bucky is and this isn't the rough, hard fucking he's had the past few days but it feels different. It's almost loving and it's definitely gentle and passionate. With these thoughts Steve is overwhelmed and he moans into the mattress, coming in thin ropes on the bed sheets and Tony's fingers.

Tony's entirely surprised that he's held off this long and he picks up the pace, each thrust growing rougher. He stills suddenly with one last thrust and spills inside of Steve, holding himself up until he's positive that he's completely spent. He presses a few gentle kisses to Steve's shoulder before pulling out and falling to the side, completely spent. He manages to lean forward and press a few breathy kisses to Steve's face.

"Was that— was I okay?" Tony asks quietly.

Steve grins, nuzzling his nose against Tony's in a disgustingly cliché manner. He turns onto his side, hooking a leg over Tony's waist and pulling him so that they're flush with one another.

"You were perfect."


	13. Chapter 13

Natasha is entirely surprised when she hears a knock at her front door before 8 o'clock. It's fine any everything, because usually she's up by now, but she hasn't even made coffee yet. She pads across the house quietly, still wearing her tank top and pajama pants and opens the front door.

"Steve!" she smiles. "What're you doing here?"

Steve isn't in his usual checkered shirt and slacks. He's bumming today in sweat pants and a too-tight t-shirt because he's actually in the middle of his morning jog.

The look on his face is unreadable when he asks, "Can we talk?"

"'Course."

Natasha steps aside and Steve goes to make himself comfortable in the living room, folding his legs under his body as he sits on the microsuede sofa. She leaves momentarily and soon the air is filled with the smell of brewing coffee. She comes and plops down on the opposite end of the couch.

"Surprised to see you," Natasha admits honestly. She figures with the way Steve has been lately, there must be something wrong. Otherwise he wouldn't be in her living room in sweatpants at 7:43 on a Saturday morning.

"Yeah, I was getting ready to go on my jog and just— I'm sorry about that, actually. I know I've been a bad friend lately."

"Not like you at all."

Steve nods. "I know. I've been going through some stuff — personal stuff."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Actually… that would be good, yeah. Okay, so you know the whole thing with Tony? He came over Thursday night and apologized. It felt good at first but now I think— I think I may have given in too quickly. I knew if I said that everything was okay there would be a good chance of him staying over—"

Natasha nudges Steve's thigh with her foot. "You slut."

Steve rolls his eyes and lets it slide — maybe because it's partially true or maybe because he doesn't feel like bickering right now.

"Did he?" Natasha presses with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," Steve answers simply.

Natasha makes note that Clint owes her ten bucks. "Is that what you wanted?"

Steve nods.

"Why do you look upset?"

"Because he didn't sleep over. And I know, I _know_ that Tony is a grown man and he has responsibilities and he has a son, but I still think it wouldn't be that big of a sacrifice to ask for him to stay the night with me."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're supposed to be the friend that grounds me and tells me that I'm being selfish and I'm wrong."

Natasha sighs and waves him off. "Not gonna do that until you tell me something. Who were you fucking before Tony? Was it Coulson?"

Steve's blue eyes widen considerably and his mouth falls open because _no_. Natasha doesn't need to know that. She doesn't even need to know that Bucky is in town or Steve has been seeing him. Okay, to be fair, Steve hasn't seen him — well, he's _seen_ him but he hasn't fucked him — since the night before Tony came over.

Steve licks his lips, shaking his head. "Give me some credit. What, you think I'd—? Seriously?"

Natasha shrugs. "I thought you were desperate for a real dick."

"Natasha, no," says Steve because they really don't need to go there. "It's— fine. If you really want to know I'm seeing Bucky."

" _Bucky_? Steve, _no_! What— what the hell are you thinking? Are you even thinking at all? Wait, where—?"

"He's in town for a construction job… but I _know_ that I'm being stupid. I'm just… the only reason I decided to even go talk to Bucky was because Tony pissed me off. You can't even fathom how hurt I was after the shit he pulled at the hotel.

"We got a pizza and went back to his motel room and watched movies. I slept over and then it just… we kind of reconnected a little. We had sex like three times before Tony came to apologize but I feel… I think I'm moving too quickly. It's been so long since I've been with someone that I know I should be more apprehensive about everything but I'm not. And that scares me."

Natasha nods and hops up from her spot. He disappears to the kitchen and it's silent again so Steve can hear Clint snoring from somewhere down the hall. Natasha comes back with two matching mugs of coffee, setting one in Steve's eager hands.

"I think maybe you should give it some time," she begins slowly, "Reevaluate some things and see what you really want. I mean, Tony has a son. I know you like kids but would that be something you'd be able to deal with? Because you'd have to prepare yourself for that. And then there's Pepper who seems to be an overprotective mother to the both of them. Is that something you can handle?"

Steve sips his coffee slowly before he's positive that Natasha is done with her rhetorical questions and run-on sentences. He sets the mug on the coffee table, folding his hands in his lap.

"I don't know," he answers simply. "With Tony I would have to change my lifestyle a little bit. I'm not sure I'm ready for that but I do like him a lot. I think we're— well, at least I think he's perfect for me. I could really see us working out and moving in together and maybe — maybe even getting married."

"And Bucky?"

"Obviously there's the whole funeral break up issue that we haven't even talked about but I've known him longer than I have Tony and I'm telling you, he's a hell of a lot more consistent than Tony is. But maybe Tony is only being this way because his husband died and he doesn't know how to move on. He's trying, you know? But he just makes all of these rational decisions without really thinking.

"With Bucky— things had been strained between us. He got sent off for two weeks for the construction job and we had grown apart even before my mom passed. It was inevitable that we were going to break up or at least take a break from each other. Her death was the icing on the cake and while obviously he should never have broken it off at her funeral I can… I get _why_ he did it."

Steve finally glances up to see Natasha's blank face. "Oh god, Nat, I'm sorry. I know I'm rambling and—"

"It's okay," she chuckles, because Natasha doesn't _giggle_. "I get it, Steve, it's fine. Sometimes we just need to vent to feel better."

"But I'm… I'm not venting, I'm asking you for advice."

"I must've missed that part."

Steve leans forward, taking another sip of his coffee. Just then, Clint stumbles out of the master bedroom with crooked boxers and his resting face. He doesn't even acknowledge Steve as he heads for the coffee pot in the kitchen. Steve watches him pass and sighs gently, sitting back with his hands in his lap.

"I don't know what to do. At first I thought things with Bucky would stay platonic but obviously not. He's a _good guy_ , you know? He never did anything to deliberately hurt me and like I said, when we broke up we were already growing apart. I don't blame him for us splitting up. It was just a crappy move to break up with me the day I buried my mom."

"I can't make this decision for you," Natasha says gently, "I don't know either of these guys too well, but I do know you. You're a sweetheart and you're smart. You'll figure it out; just give it some time. Realistically, who do you see yourself being with?"

Steve doesn't really think about his response when it comes out. It's just sort of _there_.

"Bucky. But— but that's only because you said realistically. Idealistically it would be Tony but he's so… he's caught up in work and his son and I don't blame him for that — I _can't_ blame him for that because family comes first."

Natasha leans forward, slapping a hand gently on Steve's knee. "It's Saturday! _Relax_."

Steve nods, reaching for his coffee cup. He pulls his phone from his pocket, typing out a quick text to Tony asking if he'd like to go for breakfast. And okay, Steve _knows_ he shouldn't but he at least has to _ask_. His phone vibrates seconds later.

_Sorry, I can't. Maybe tomorrow?_

Steve doesn't even reply to Tony. He knows Bucky's probably asleep but he sleeps with his phone under his pillow so he sends the same text asking if Bucky would like to get breakfast

"Know what?" Natasha says abruptly. "I think I should meet them. Maybe we should— I should throw a dinner party."

"That's sweet but—"

"No! I'm going to. I wanna meet your mysterious flame from high school."

"I met him in college."

"Whatever," she smirks. "I'll invite Coulson and a few others. If you show up on Bucky's arm it could be a good cover for you if you're gonna keep seeing Stark."

"Tasha, that's thoughtful of you but—"

"Once her mind's set, it's set," Clint breaks in when he walks back through the living room with a cup of coffee in hand. "You should know that by now."

Steve's phone buzzes on the table and he lunges for it. Part of him is hoping it's Tony telling him he can make breakfast, but it's not. It's Bucky.

_Meet me at the donut shop in 30._

"Yeah, maybe you should," Steve says distractedly, sending an affirmative back to Bucky. He sips the rest of his coffee quickly before standing up.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Yeah, I, uh— breakfast."

Natasha knows better than to ask. She simply stands up and sees Steve out the door.

* * *

It isn't supposed to end up like this but it does. It was supposed to be breakfast — coffee, pastries, donuts. It is, but then Steve needs to go back to the motel room to get his dirty clothes. It starts when Steve is distracted by something — a story on the news — and while he's supposed to be getting his clothes together Bucky heads for a shower. But two minutes watching the news turns into ten minutes turns into Bucky coming out of the bathroom naked because he figures Steve has already left.

Neither of them are too sure about the amount of time it takes for Steve to get undressed and on the bed. But they're here, Steve on his belly, grunting ashamedly as Bucky fucks him from behind — hard and fast and brutal, as always. Then again, that's something that Steve likes about Bucky; the sex is always been _fantastic_.

Bucky thrusts into Steve aggressively, pounding his ass with force as he reaches forward to grab a handful of Steve's blond hair. He tugs it, letting go only to put a hand to the back of Steve's head for leverage as his grunts sync with Steve's moans. Steve's already come and he's out of breath, just lying here in the afterglow of his orgasm as Bucky reaches his own.

His movements are messy, thrusts shallow and Steve knows Bucky's close. He flexes just a little beneath his body and Bucky's there, a strangled groan falling from his dry lips as he spills into the blond man below him. He shoves Steve aside before his dead weight falls on the mattress.

Steve is the first one to move, climbing off the bed and getting dressed.

"I have to go," he says quietly.

Bucky isn't sure what to think. He jerks his head up with damp hair stuck to his sweat-moistened forehead, and looks at Steve with wide blue eyes as Steve slips on his pants and t-shirt, shaking his head.

"I have stuff to do." Steve grunts, gathering his dirty clothing from around the room. He's looking for his other shoe when Bucky grabs his boxers and slips them on. He's desperate. Desperate for company, friendship, desperate for familiarity in this small boring town.

"Come on! Stay with me today. We can sleep, hang out, watch movies..."

"I can't, Buck."

"Baby, please."

And that makes Steve stop in his tracks because _no_. He heads for the door, hand paused on the knob and turns to look at Bucky.

"I'm not your baby." He steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.


	14. Chapter 14

For the first time in a while, Tony takes off work early to get Peter. Tony's outside waiting at the elementary school, still dressed in his black suit and tie, when the bell rings. He knows he's not exactly allowed inside but the chaotic hallways allow him to slip in virtually unnoticed. Tony focuses on looking for Peter, his eyes scanning over all the little heads, and by the time he gets to Mr. Rogers' class, Peter has yet to leave the classroom.

Steve is shuffling papers on the desk and Tony stares for a moment, admiring the way Steve's eyelashes silhouette against his pale skin.

"Dad!" Peter shrieks, leaving his friend Gwen's side and running to greet Tony. Tony meets him halfway, scooping Peter up in his arms.

"Hey, champ," Tony smiles, burying his nose in Peter's hair just for a moment and then he glances up at Steve, flipping his sunglasses to the top of his head.

Steve, previously distracted, stops shuffling the papers on his desk and glances up at the sound of Tony's voice. "Mr. Stark," Steve smiles. And it's not just a smile; it's a _grin_ , the kind that makes Steve's eyes wrinkle at the corners.

"Mr. Rogers," Tony replies with a nod, unfaltering. "Has Peter been good?"

"Peter is a dream," Steve practically beams. And then that's too much, so he clears his throat and takes it down a notch. "Peter's been fine. He's one of the best behaved in the class. Isn't that right, Peter?"

Peter looks at Steve quizzically because he's never seen Mr. Rogers be so… happy? Or perhaps not happy; he's never seen him so bubbly and neither has Tony for that matter. It's silent for a moment and Steve looks down at a small card on his desk, picking it up and rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Hey, Peter, go— go wait outside for me, 'kay?" Tony requests, setting Peter on his feet. "Talk to Gwen or something."

Peter does so without hesitating and as soon as he's out Steve crosses over to Tony with the card in his hand.

Tony pauses, holding Steve at an arm's length. "What if—?"

Steve reaches around Tony, closing the door and then Tony pushes him against it with surprising force. Tony's mouth is on his and Tony's stubble tickles Steve's lips. Steve lets out a soft whimper when Tony reaches up to cup his cheek and yeah, it feels good, but they could get caught, so Steve pushes Tony gently, licking his mouth and grabbing handfuls of Tony's jacket.

"Tony," he breathes against Tony's thin, chapped lips.

And Tony does that thing, that half-smile when he steals another kiss from Steve's lips and then he finally pulls away.

"Tough day, teach?" he ventures.

Steve pulls away with a shrug. "Nah, not too bad. Nice to see finally see you again." As he mutters this he reaches out and tugs at the lapel of Tony's jacket

"I know, I know. It's..."

"Work," Steve replies knowingly. "Tony, I get it. I do. You don't have to explain it to me."

"I know!" Tony gasps quickly, worriedly. "But I promised I'd try to be better about it. What's that?" he asks, pointing to the note in Steve's hand.

"Dinner party," the blond replies with somewhat of a groan. "My friend Natasha's hosting it tonight. Just a few people from work, y'know? You can't make it by any chance, can you? Invitation is for two," he hints.

"Actually I promised Peter we'd go for ice cream after dinner. I'm sorry, Steve, I wish—"

"It's fine," Steve whispers reassuringly, nodding. "I'll just go by myself. No big deal." He fakes a small smile, kissing Tony on the cheek and nudging him toward the classroom door. Steve isn't sure if it's because he's disappointed or just worried about what other teachers will think of Tony being in the classroom.

"I'll text you," Tony says and Steve does his best not to get his hopes up.

* * *

Steve doesn't go home when it's time for him to leave. He's thankful that he remembered to drive his car today because it's raining this afternoon. And Steve knows. He _knows_ it's not a good idea to ask Bucky to Natasha's dinner, but he doesn't want to show up without anyone and maybe if he _does_ go with Bucky and someone takes pictures and somehow they get back to Tony, Tony will get his shit together and finally _commit_.

Bucky is already there, lying down on the bed when Steve knocks.

"It's open!"

Steve slips through, closing the door behind himself. "You got plans tonight?" he asks abruptly.

"Uh, no? But I do now," Bucky guesses, brow raised as he examines the expression on Steve's face.

"You're going with me to a dinner party so get showered."

Bucky begins to protest but he doesn't even get as far as 'uh' before Steve cuts him off.

Steve isn't exactly a bad liar. Hell, he hardly ever has _reasons_ to lie, but now he does because he doesn't want to show up without anyone because Coulson will be there.

"C'mon, Buck, I could use your help. My friend's trying to set me up with someone in town and that's not— that isn't going to work." So it's not entirely true because Steve is trying to get himself off the hook with Coulson. But whatever, Bucky doesn't need to know that.

Bucky's blue eyes shoot up in surprise. "So like a date?"

"Don't... yeah, sure, if you want to label it as that. But look, I'm not saying this means we'll start dating or whatever again, alright?" Steve asks quickly, assertively, because he needs Bucky to promise.

"Yeah, it's— that's fine," he nods, clearing his throat. Bucky sits up and looks in the direction of the bathroom but does something entirely different. He stands to his feet, snatching Steve by the wrist and pulling him onto the bed. Of course, Steve doesn't protest because Bucky's pretty lips are on his own and Bucky's hands feel so damn good on his body.

By the time Steve is shirtless, Bucky's jeans have been thrown on the floor and Steve pushes him at an arm's length.

"We can't keep doing this," he says breathlessly, looking into Bucky's intense gaze. It's supposed to come out forcefully but it doesn't. Instead, it's a murmured request.

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, although Steve thinks he's only agreeing because he knows that Steve will make him promise that this is the last time. So if Bucky complies, Steve will reward him with one last fuck and Steve can pretend not to care about Tony not coming around more often than he does.

"This is the _last_ time," Steve breathes as Bucky flips them so that he's hovering over Steve.

"Yep."

* * *

Tony and Peter are lying on the leather sofa when Pepper finally comes in after a long day. Pepper's hands are full and she's struggling to get in but Tony and Peter are too comfortable to move. But still, Tony feels compelled to ask.

"Need help?"

"I got it," Pepper replies in _that_ tone. She drops her bags by the door, kicking off her heels and heading upstairs. Within thirty minutes Tony decides that Pepper isn't coming back down and he reaches for the remote, muting the television.

"Pete, we've gotta talk about something."

"What?"

Tony takes a deep breath; he's been meaning to talk to Peter about this for a while now. He knows that Peter is practically still a baby and that Bruce's death was hard for him to deal with. But Tony is finally beginning to move on and maybe that has something to do with how hard this is going to be.

Tony tilts his head back to rest against the couch cushion and runs his fingers through Peter's hair. He takes a deep breath and tries not to think about how hard this is going to be. He's not good with these sorts of things so he just goes for it.

"Papa's been gone for a long time now, right?"

"Mhm," Peter nods, looking down at Tony's lap because he doesn't really want to think about his papa right now.

"Well, I'm thinking that maybe it's time for me to find you a... a _new_ one," Tony chokes out. His dry eyes sting with the onset of tears and he blinks furiously in attempt drive them away.

"A new one?" Peter retorts, somewhat delayed by the mere thought. Of course Peter doesn't understand the concept but he wants to try his best to try for Tony's sake. Peter nods, just the slightest little jerk of his head, and nestles back into Tony's embrace. Peter doesn't want to think about having a new papa because he still enjoys thinking about his old one all the time.

* * *

Steve and Bucky arrive at Natasha's house thirty minutes early and of course Steve can't come empty-handed. He stops at the florist and shoves a pretty bouquet of daisies into Natasha's grip as soon as she answers the door.

"Tasha," Steve says with a smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He stands back, looking her up over and Natasha looks absolutely _beautiful_ in her black A-line dress. "You look gorgeous, as usual."

Natasha is accustomed to Steve being polite but something about Steve's smile allows her to believe that Steve's compliment is beyond just being polite. She takes the flowers, gracefully motions for the two of them to enter and closes the door.

"Natasha, this is Bucky. Bucky, this is Natasha. She teaches at my school."

The two shake hands and Bucky follows close behind Steve as they make their way to the living room and sit on the couch comfortably. Bucky props his legs up on Steve's lap and that is definitely _not_ okay so Steve pushes them dow, glaring at him.

"Are you trying to make a bad impression?" Steve asks in hushed tones.

Bucky scowls, his gaze focused on the coffee table, and doesn't bother to argue.

The remainder of the night proceeds without a hitch. Of course Natasha is streamlined and prepared in almost everything she does is flawless and perfect, so the meal is right on schedule. The dinner party consists of Natasha, Clint, Bucky, Steve, Phil, and a few other nameless people that work with Natasha at school. It's rather dull and boring for the most part. After wine and pie for dessert, Steve and Bucky are the last ones to leave. They say goodbye to Natasha and stand on the porch long after she closes the door.

"So, you coming over?" Bucky asks, licking his lips.

Steve shakes his head. "I told you we can't do that anymore. I said today was the last time."

Bucky chuckles and runs a hand over his slicked-back hair. "Didn't think you meant it."

"I meant it, Bucky. I told you it was the last time."

"Judging by your moans I figured you were just fucking with me."

"You know," Steve breaks in abruptly, "I thought that maybe since what happened to us took place three _years_ ago I'd be able to move past it. But you're just the same person you were before that happened," he whispers in awe. "You're the same immature _asshole_ you were when you left me after my mother's funeral."

"Oh, come on! I am _not_ that guy anymore, Steve!"

Steve shakes his head, irritated beyond explanation, and shoves his hands in his pockets. "You are. You are _definitely_ still that guy. Just— just leave. Please just go before Natasha comes outside."

Bucky shakes his head and his nostrils are flared when he marches to his car. He doesn't even offer Steve a ride which is kind of shitty because between the time they arrived to the porch and now, it's started raining again. It's okay though, because Steve doesn't live too far and getting rained on is a lot better than being subjected to Bucky's behavior.


	15. Chapter 15

It's the end of September now and the weather is turning cooler. It's such a relief from the dry heat they've been experiencing. Steve loves it because he enjoys being outside in the crisp air after a long day stuck in his classroom. When he gets home he changes into running shorts and a tight t-shirt, exchanging his Oxfords for a pair of Nikes, grabs a water bottle from the fridge and sets out for his jog.

He goes the long route around town. He waits to pass Tony's house for last, hoping maybe he'll be outside and by the time he's ready to take a break, he's sticky with sweat. He rounds the corner to Tony's house and is elated when he sees Tony sitting in the front yard with Peter.

"Hey!" Steve calls with a wave.

Peter doesn't look up from his RC truck but Tony looks up from his phone, taken slightly aback by Steve's state of dress. He looks so relaxed and casual and Tony's not sure if he's ever seen Steve look so  _good_. Except maybe after the time they fucked.

"Hi," Tony smiles, standing up from his lawn chair and meeting Steve halfway down the driveway. He usually isn't one to be affectionate but he needs it and when he hugs Steve he feels warmth and comfort.

"Sorry if I stink," Steve chuckles softly as he returns the hug.

"You don't stink."

Steve glances down at the sweat stain on the front of his shirt and Tony laughs. "Oh, come on."

"Maybe you stink a little," Tony amends with a small shrug, only to placate him.

"So how have you been?" the blond asks, shifting on his feet. What he's really asking is 'where have you been?'

"Busy," Tony sighs. "We're still working on contracts and the office isn't even done yet."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Steve cringes because he might as well confess that he deliberately drives by Tony's office on his way to school in the mornings.

"So not much." Tony shrugs and sniffs, glancing down at his feet to ignore the disappointed expression on Steve's face. Tony isn't good with this kind of thing. He knows that Steve is expecting to be asked on a date or invited over for dinner. But this is hard for Tony and he doesn't want to deal with emotions on top of all of this work shit.

"How about you? What've you been up to?"

Steve shrugs a little, making his best attempt at not sounding too upset about Tony's lack of commitment. "Just work," he says quietly.

Tony nods and sighs. "I know I promised I'd get my shit together," Tony grumbles. "Maybe we can do something one night this week if you're free?"

"Sure," Steve shrugs because he's always got free time. "Thursday is actually my birthday."

"Great! We can go out. Make plans for Thursday night. And take Friday off."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Tony replies but only because he doesn't know the answer. He'll figure something out. Or have Pepper figure something out.

"So Thursday?" Steve confirms.

Tony hums and nods, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's sweaty cheek before going back inside his house.

* * *

"Ooh," Natasha coos as she walks into Steve's classroom on Thursday morning. "Who are the roses from?"

Steve peeks out from behind the two dozen red roses and slides over in his chair. He shrugs, giving Natasha a goofy smile. "I'm not really sure."

"You think they're from Tony?"

"Yeah, I do," Steve nods. "I told him it's my birthday. He's supposed to take me out tonight."

"Nice," the redhead nods, hopping up to sit on the edge of Steve's desk. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah. We haven't spent time together since that night he came over to talk."

"So what's the plan? Nice dinner and a movie? Or take out and back to your place?"

"I don't exactly know," Steve shrugs folding his hands in his lap. "But I'm excited. Y'know, I really think Tony and I could work out."

"If he stops shitting around and actually commits," Natasha grumbles.

"That's not fair. He has a kid, his husband passed away. That's nothing I hold against him."

"I just think maybe you should be a little more realistic about your expectations and your future with Tony. He's got a kid, he's got a dead husband, he's got this huge important job in town. I can totally understand if he doesn't have time for a relationship."

Steve nods because he's thought about all of those things, too. "I just wish that if that's the truth he'd just  _tell me_  and stop dicking around already. It's exhausting."

"Why don't you try to get back with your ex?"

" _Bucky?_  Do you even have to ask that question?"

"I just— I thought you two seemed good together at the dinner party. He seems like a genuine guy who doesn't fuck around with your emotions. I mean, yeah he broke up with you at your mom's funeral. But he isn't stringing you along like Stark's been doing. And I just—I think that's bullshit."

"Tony's just a busy guy. Once they settle down I think we'll be fine."

Natasha shrugs a little. "It's your life. Just let me know how it goes, okay? And hey—if Stark cancels on you, call me. Clint and I will take you out to eat."

Steve smiles and looks down at his hands because he hopes he won't have to do that. "Thanks, Nat. I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Steve's lucky that he doesn't have to call Natasha saying that Tony canceled because right now they're cuddled up in Steve's living room with a thunderstorm blaring outside. They're eating pizza from Gambino's and the crust is almost burnt but it's okay because Steve and Tony are finally  _together_.

"Oh," Steve hums, reaching for another slice of pizza. "Thanks for the roses, by the way."

Tony purses his lips and thinks for a minute. He certainly doesn't remember sending Steve roses. But he did tell Pepper to think of something to get Steve, so he shrugs and figures she sent them. "You're welcome."

* * *

"I would say this is the best part of any birthday," Tony chuckles as he leads Steve back to the bedroom.

"I would have to agree with you," Steve hums, closing the bedroom door behind him. He crosses over to the bed to sit down with Tony following close behind.

"Lights on or off?"

"On," Steve smiles. "I wanna see you."

Tony doesn't know how to feel about that.

* * *

Steve wakes up next to Tony on Friday morning. He feels an arm around his waist and a chin on his shoulder and it feels so warm that he doesn't want to get up. He hits the snooze button and drifts off until he feels Tony's arm slip from his hip. He lets Tony get up and it's not until he smells brewing coffee that Steve goes into the kitchen.

"Morning," Steve smiles, pressing a kiss to the crook of Tony's neck as he approaches him at the table.

"Hey," Tony hums. "Can I take a shower before I go?"

"Go ahead."

"'Kay," Tony smiles, standing up and carrying his coffee to the bathroom. Steve is left sitting at the table, perturbed as to why Tony is so eager to leave him.

* * *

Steve stops by the corner store on his way to work to buy gas. He rolls his eyes when he walks through the door of the corner store to see Bucky at the counter dressed for work. He tries to ignore him, pretends that he doesn't even notice who it is, but Bucky glances over his shoulder on impulse and is surprised to see Steve.

"Hey," he smiles a little.

"Hi," Steve replies, but only because he doesn't want to be impolite.

"How was your birthday?"

"Good," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the twenty dollar bill in his hand.

"That's good," Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking down at his steel toed work boots. "Hey, I— I'm sorry about what happened at your friend's dinner party. How I acted and shit," he shrugs. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I get it if you don't wanna give me a second shot. I-I don't blame you for that."

The blond is a little taken aback but smiles, slightly off guard, but then he remembers how sweet Bucky can be. "Thanks for that. I appreciate it."

"So you got the roses, right?"

"Roses?" Steve furrows his brows. "Those were from you?"

"Yeah," Bucky nods, shrugging and avoiding Steve's eyes. "So, hey—I'll see you later." He pushes gently past Steve and goes out the front door. Steve doesn't know what to think. He definitely doesn't know why Tony would lie about the roses. But he'll have to ask about it.


	16. Chapter 16

Tony is still busy and Steve still hasn't asked Tony about his birthday roses. It's not because he's avoiding asking Tony, but because he hasn't exactly  _seen_ Tony in two weeks. He doesn't know if he should even bother with it but then again he isn't sure he should trust his heart with someone who would lie about something so trivial as roses.

Steve hasn't seen much of Bucky either. He wonders how Bucky is doing and wonders when Bucky's leaving town after the construction job is over. And he's still wondering about all of these things when he's told himself that he really is over Bucky.

And Steve figures that maybe he and Bucky could be okay again. He almost wants that because he knows that Bucky is capable of settling down and focusing on a relationship, when Tony clearly isn't. And it's not Tony's fault, it's just the nature of his job, and Steve understands that. So he tells himself that he'll stop by Bucky's motel room after work.

* * *

"Oh," Bucky says, clearly surprised to see Steve standing outside his motel room. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" Steve asks, and Bucky steps aside to let him in. They sit down at the tiny table next to the window and Steve is thankful that Bucky is actually wearing a shirt.

"I feel like I'm in trouble," Bucky admits quietly, staring down at the top of the table.

"Why?"

"Dunno, you don't ever come over just for fun or anything. You're always on some sort of mission." The corner of his mouth tugs a little until he's giving Steve this sweetest half-smile.

"You're right," Steve admits. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Bucky waits for Steve to continue but when Steve doesn't Bucky says, "Okay, shoot."

Steve sighs before he speaks. "I just… I've been thinking a lot about everything. I miss us—you—what we had. And I don't know, I think I might… I might want—" The words get tangled and Steve sighs, rolling his eyes at his inability to string words together.

"Take your time," Bucky replies with the softest smile, staring up at the blonde with the same expression that hooked Steve in the beginning.

Steve takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Okay. I'm trying to say that I might want to give us a second chance. I had my doubts about what your intentions really were but I—I don't know. When you sent those roses," he says, looking down, "it was just really thoughtful."

Bucky nods just slightly and crosses his arms on top of the table. "I just thought it'd be nice and I wanted you to know that I'm not a complete dick."

"I know you aren't," Steve smiles, and Bucky quietly.

"So, are you going to tell me about the guy you've been seeing?" Bucky asks suddenly, quiet and reserved. He's heard the talk in town and honestly he needs to know that Steve is willing to be open and honest about his situation.

"How did you—?"

"The town's not exactly huge, Steve. I've heard people talking. So what's the deal? Was it just a fling? Is it over or what?"

"I don't know," Steve sighs and Bucky gets up because he wants to sprawl on the bed.

"What's the problem? He won't commit?"

"It's a long story," Steve says, turning to face his ex-lover. "I really like Tony but I just don't think things are ever going to work out. He's too busy with Peter and work and—"

"Peter?" Bucky inquires.

"Tony's son. He's in my class. Actually, that's how Tony and I met."

"You've always wanted kids," Bucky murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. He tries to ignore the tone in Steve's voice because it hurts. He knows they can never have kids even if they do end up back together again.

"I know," Steve admits softly.

"You know we'll never be able to have them. We could never afford it," Bucky says, because he knows that Steve wants to be a parent almost more than anything else. He knows he can never give Steve that experience.

"I could always get a second job," Steve suggests. "Why is this even relevant to what we're talking about?"

Bucky shrugs and swallows hard. His voice is thick and quiet, as if he doesn't want to admit what he's about to say. "Because I think if you're happy with this guy you should just stay with him. He's got a kid. You want kids."

Steve's eyes soften and he gets up, crossing the room to sit next to Bucky on the bed. "I don't  _have_  to have a kid of my own, Buck. Look—this isn't even important right now. I'm just talking about giving us another shot."

"Okay, but the fact that we could never have kids together really fucking  _scares me_ , Steve. If you can have that with someone else, I want you to."

"But I'm not going to keep messing around with Tony. He can't commit and I'm not going to let myself keep getting hurt."

"Have you even talked to him yet?" Bucky inquires. "Does he know you feel like this?"

"Well, I'm sure by now he's realized—"

"That isn't what I asked. Have you talked to him yet?"

"No! I haven't! But I plan to," Steve clarifies.

"What the fuck is this then, huh?" Bucky spits, sitting up and staring at Steve. "You come over here asking me if I want to give us a second shot and you haven't even broken up with your fucking boyfriend yet? So that's all I am to you. Your fallback plan."

"No! That's not— I was going to talk to him after I left here."

Bucky's so pissed he can't really think straight. He climbs off the bed, storming over to the door and pulling it open. "Please go. We can talk later. I'm just— right now I think it'd be better for you to leave."

Steve scowls but obliges, unable to even look at Bucky before he walks out.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Tony?" Steve replies quietly, and Tony senses that everything is definitely not okay.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah—yes, it's fine. I was just wondering if I could come over and talk to you about something? Or you could come over here. I really need to talk to you."

Tony glances at his clock and figures that he has an hour or so to spare before he's got to put Peter to bed. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in ten."

* * *

"You look stunning," Tony half-jokes when Steve answers the door wearing sweat pants and an old paint-splattered t-shirt.

Steve doesn't smile or even give Tony a kiss before he leads him inside to the living room. They sit on the couches and Tony knows better than to try and get hands-y.

"How've you been?" Tony asks quietly because the vibe he's getting from Steve is less than pleasant.

"Okay, I guess. Look, I'm not going to drag this out," Steve mutters, looking down at his lap. "What—what are your intentions? I really just... I need to know. Because we hardly ever see each other and we haven't been on a date since my birthday and I don't—"

"You know I've been busy," Tony mumbles. "That's not fair."

Steve's lips form a frown and he almost snaps at Tony. "Why didn't you tell me the truth about the roses that I got on my birthday?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't tell me that they weren't from you. Why?"

And  _oh shit_  because when Tony looks up at Steve, those piercing eyes are practically burning into Tony's entire being. He sighs because he doesn't have any choice but to come clean.

"Okay, I told Pepper to order you something nice because I didn't have time go to get you anything. I didn't know what you'd like."

" I didn't  _need_  anything, Tony! Hell, just spending time with you was enough. You didn't have to lie about it!"

"I didn't know what to say! How was I supposed to know Pepper didn't have anything delivered? You can't blame me for that. I was totally innocent. And technically, I didn't even lie. You didn't directly ask me whether or not I bought you roses."

Steve shakes his head and he's completely done with this conversation when he says, "I don't think we could see each other anymore."

"Steve—"

"No, I— Tony, I'm done."

Tony purses his lips and gets up to leave, choosing not to say another word.


	17. Chapter 17

"You get your grades in yet?" Natasha asks suddenly, pulling Steve out of his thoughts as he looks up at her.

"Do what?" he retorts, not paying complete attention to the question.

She hangs on the door frame, cocking her head to the side slightly. "Grades are due tomorrow before three. Didn't you get the email?"

"O-oh," Steve stutters, because he's obviously forgotten to check his email today. "Uh, that would be a 'no.' Damn, I completely forgot."

Natasha furrows her brow and crosses the room, standing opposite of Steve's desk with an all-knowing look. "You haven't been yourself lately."

Since Steve's confrontations with both Tony and Bucky, Steve isn't focusing on work as much as he should be. He's turned to art as his outlet for his feelings, and it's literally all he does in his free time. He's been so distracted that he's forgotten grades are due tomorrow before three o'clock, until Natasha has so politely reminded him.

"It must have just slipped my mind," Steve mutters, reaching down to pull the large stack of forgotten worksheets and tests from his bottom desk drawer.

"When was the last time you've graded anything?" Natasha asks, flipping through the stack.

"Uh, probably three weeks."

"That's not like you."

Steve shrugs because he really can't argue. He's usually the type of teacher to stay late grading papers, but in the last three weeks he really hasn't been able to concentrate on work. He looks to the papers and groans before looking at Natasha's with what can only be described as a sad puppy's expression. "Natasha?"

Natasha hesitates before letting a subtle smirk play on her lips. "You're lucky I finished with mine last night."

Just then, footsteps are heard outside the door and Phil, seeing the light on in Steve's classroom, pokes his head in. "What are you still doing here? New rule: everyone's gone by three thirty. Didn't you get the memo? Get your stuff and go."

"Don't we get time to finish grades before—?"

"Don't give me that, Rogers; I know you've had your grades ready since last week. Out," Phil gestures. "You, too, Romanov."

When Coulson is gone, Natasha leans over and scoops the papers up, tucking them under her arm. "C'mon, get your laptop."

* * *

They're sitting on the living room floor with cups of hot tea, a pile papers spread out between them. They've been at it for an hour now and there's still a stack an inch thick that's sitting, untouched, next to Steve.

"So you gonna tell me what's been up with you lately?" Natasha asks from behind her mug of hot tea.

"I just haven't been focusing on work as much as I should be."

"What have you been focusing on?"

"Nothing, really. All I do is draw and paint when I get home."

She hums. "Clint said he hasn't seen you at the shop lately. Find a new coffee shop in town?"

Steve knows Natasha's joking; there  _are_ no other coffee shops in town. "I just don't feel like getting out much," he shrugs.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Steve hesitates before putting his papers down with a sigh. "I made a mess of things. Bucky's mad at me for understandable reasons, and I think because of that I broke it off with Tony."

Natasha looks somewhat surprised, but not completely. "What happened?"

"Things got out of hand really quickly, um—" Steve clears his throat. "Those roses I got on my birthday weren't from Tony; they were from Bucky. He and I had an argument the night of your dinner party and he sent them to me as sort of an apologetic birthday gift. And I'd been doing some thinking because Tony hadn't been around as much as he should've been. I told Bucky that I wanted to give us another shot and when he asked if I'd broken up with Tony yet, I said no. He accused me of making him my fallback plan and kind of kicked me out."

"Rogers," Natasha says flatly, and her voice reflects complete and total disapproval. "Why the  _fuck_  would you think it was a good idea to rekindle a relationship with someone who broke up with you the day you  _buried your mother_?"

"Because it's comfortable? I don't know!" he replies defensively. "Bucky's just… comfortable. When we're together, I almost feel like nothing happened."

"I guess I'm just having a hard time believing you wouldn't give it more thought than that. So what about Stark? What happened with him?"

"I asked him why he lied about the roses. He got a little defensive, and I may have overreacted and said that we should stop seeing each other. I don't know, it's just—it's a mess, and I'm starting to think maybe I'm not ready for another relationship right now."

"If you were asking me, which you're not, I'd say that you definitely moved too quickly in both cases and you just need some time to yourself to figure out what the hell you want."

"Yeah, I think so, too. So from now on, I'm going to focus on work and rebuilding my minimal social life."

"I'm not even sure it was minimal; it was pretty much nonexistent."

Steve chuckles, shrugging. "I can't argue with you."

Natasha smiles to herself and glances down at the looming pile of papers. "Since we're not going to be done anytime soon, wanna go grab some dinner?"

"Plum Thickett?"

Steve stands to his feet and adjusts his shirt, nodding. "Sure. I'll buy."

* * *

Steve deems himself cursed when they're seated, because from their booth they have a lovely view of a table full of blustering men in tattered work jeans and coveralls. And Bucky is one of them. Bucky hasn't noticed Steve yet, and Steve is thankful for that, so he takes precautions by hiding behind his menu.

After several moments of observing Steve's ridiculousness, Natasha is fed up and rips the menu from his fingertips. "You're being ridiculous," she snips.

"Hey!"

So much for being incognito; the familiar sound of Steve's voice sends Bucky looking in Steve's direction, and Steve is suddenly very interested in actually reading the menu.

"Good job," Natasha chuckles.

Steve drops the menu to rest his head in his hands, and wonders if Natasha will ever stop teasing him as if she's his older sister.

"You're making too big of a deal," she says, her voice lower. "He's not even worried about you. If he's the one who told you to back off, I don't think you have to worry about him coming over to say hi."

"Will you be my buffer if he does?" Steve asks into the palm of his hand.

Natasha just laughs and shakes her head, because Steve is being comical; if Bucky wants to come over, he'll do it whether or not Natasha acts as his buffer.

* * *

Just now, Pepper is shuffling to her bedroom with a mug of hot chocolate nestled between her hands. She's wondering why Tony's been so quiet and compliant the past few weeks and when she sees his bedroom door is open, she pokes her head in. "Tony?"

Tony looks up and he's definitely got bags under his eyes and looks exhausted. Pepper thinks he may have been crying, but she doesn't let on.

"What's up?" he asks quietly, scratching his head with the stylus pen in his hand.

Pepper steps inside and shrugs, taking a sip of her drink. "You've been kind of quiet lately, and concentrating on work and very compliant. I'm worried."

Tony tries to smile genuinely, but he can't. He simply shrugs and looks down at his tablet. "I guess maybe I'm just growing up."

"No, there's something—it's different. You haven't been talking to Steve lately. Did something happen with him?"

"He broke it off with me, but other than that, nope. Everything's fine," he smiles.

Pepper looks both surprised and upset. She sits at the edge of Tony's bed, reaching out to put a hand on his knee. "Why?"

"I might have led him to believe I sent him roses for his birthday, which I didn't, but I genuinely thought you may have sent them because, uh,  _hello_ ; I told you to. But you know what? It doesn't even matter; I'm focusing on work now, and on Peter, which is what you want. I'll be okay."

Pepper sighs sympathetically. "It was just so good to see you happy and excited about something after the year you've had."

"Then why'd you keep on top of me about work?" Tony asks incredulously. "Pep, you—you're part of the thing that kept me from seeing Steve. Every time I tried to plan something, you'd always claim there was something work related to fill the slot."

"I'm not part of what kept you from seeing him, Tony! You could have easily done those meetings during work hours, but you often chose to sit in your office and procrastinate. That's certainly not _my_  fault."

"And the worst part of this is that I really  _liked_  Steve. He's a lot like Bruce was, and I think he would've been a good stepdad for Peter. But I guess I'll never know for sure."

Pepper leans over to kiss his forehead. "You never know. Anything could happen."


	18. Chapter 18

Pepper is surprised when she opens Tony's office door to find him actually working. She probably shouldn't be because ever since Steve broke their relationship off, Tony has been much better with fulfilling his responsibilities to the company.

He glances up from his computer monitor briefly. "Need something?" he mutters, turning his attention back to his half-filed report.

"It's five o'clock. Time to go home." Pepper leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and good intentions.

"I'm gonna stay until I'm done."

"No you're not. You're coming home with me; your reports can wait."

"Since when can reports wait? I was always under the impression that—"

"Tony," Pepper sighs, dropping her arms.

"What?"

"Please stop pretending like you're okay."

"I'm not pretending," Tony responds. "I'm fine."

"You've been putting on this act ever since Steve broke up with you. You've been working and doing things you need to do. When you're not working you're at home doing things you need to do. You're being too responsible; something's wrong."

When Tony speaks, sarcasm oozes through his tone. "Maybe I'm just growing up."

Pepper sighs again. "Peter's waiting on you to go home. He's asleep in the lobby. What do you want me to do?"

"Five minutes?" Tony asks hopefully.

Pepper nods, leaves, and Tony is alone in his office again. His fingers cease clacking away at the keyboard and he leans back in his chair. The picture of Bruce and Peter on his desk is getting harder to look at day by day. Tony briefly wonders if he should put it away, but it wouldn't do any good.

* * *

The evening is mundane as usual; shower, TV, and then dinner, except Tony is actually home for dinner this time. They're gathered at the table eating orange chicken and salad when Peter breaks the silence.

"How come you're home?" he asks, poking at his salad.

"I got done with work early," Tony says, gesturing. "Don't play with your food."

Peter obeys, and it's silent again for a moment until he speaks up again. "I get out early Thursday. Are you gonna pick me up?"

"Early for what?"

"Conferences."

Tony blinks. " _What_?"

Peter shrugs unknowingly, and Tony is trying not to overreact.

"There's a note you have to sign. I don't know."

"By conferences I'm assuming you mean parent-teacher conferences, right? I have to go talk to you teacher?"

"Yeah," Peter nods. "Something like that."

Tony drops his fork onto his plate. "Fuck."

Pepper glares at him. "Tony!"

"I can't—I can't do that. Pepper, you have to go, I can't—"

"What's the big deal?" Peter asks quietly.

Tony elects to ignore him and Pepper sips delicately at her glass of wine.

"Peter, eat your vegetables."

* * *

The only reason Tony stays and helps Pepper clean up the dinner dishes is because he needs to convince her that he absolutely  _cannot_  meet with Steve regarding his son's grades.

"You  _know_  I can't go. There are student confidentiality laws and it's not my responsibility. Peter's your son, not mine."

Tony is diligently washing the dishes, per Pepper's request, and doesn't stop to turn around and look at her. "I'm not going. I just won't show up. Maybe we can do it on the phone—or email."

"I don't know why you're so worried. It'll be good for you."

"How will it be good for me? I really liked Steve, and he ended things with me because I'm a shitty boyfriend. It'll be humiliating."

Pepper sighs and ceases wiping the table. "I don't know why you won't just apologize and ask for another chance. It's clearly taking a toll on you; without him as a distraction, you're turning into the responsible adult I always knew you could be."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're mocking me?"

"Because you're being ridiculous. You're gonna have to do it yourself." Pepper's tone softens and she tosses her towel onto the table before crossing the kitchen. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but it really will be okay." She combs her fingers through Tony's hair before kissing his cheek and motioning to the plate he's washing. "You missed a spot."

* * *

The following morning, Tony tries not to think about the impending parent-teacher conference. He drops Peter at school, goes to work and focuses on the pile of reports he needs to work through. Before he knows anything it's lunch time and when he walks out to his car, he's surprised to find a slightly attractive and somewhat sweaty construction worker leaning on his car.

"Can I help you?" Tony snaps, gesturing to his car.

Bucky makes no attempt to move, only crosses his arms. "You Stark?"

"No, I think you're looking for the other guy who owns Stark Resources," he retorts with a gesture. "What do you want?"

"You're the guy Steve's dating, right?"

"Was dating," Tony clarifies. "We dated. Why?"

Bucky pushes off the car and shrugs as he begins to walk away. "He's all yours; I'm done with him."

"Wait, you're—you're the ex. You're the prick who broke up with him at his mom's funeral. Oh, everything makes so much more sense now."

"Whatever, man," Bucky calls over his shoulder, shaking his head. "You got your hands full with that one."

* * *

Tony's lunch break isn't as relaxing as he hopes it to be. He's constantly thinking about Steve and wondering if there's any possible way he could apologize for everything that's happened. He's thinking of ideas and when he comes up dry, he stops by Pepper's office on his way back from lunch.

"Got a minute?" he asks, clearing his throat.

Pepper nods because she knows no matter the answer she gives, Tony is going to disregard it and distract her.

"I've been thinking," Tony starts as he walks in and stands on the opposite side of her desk. "I think I should just apologize to Steve for being a pussy and not committing. I mean, if I would have just managed my time better like I'm doing now, I would've had plenty of time for him. Right?"

Pepper sighs and closes her eyes. "Tony…"

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to tell me I shouldn't pursue him?"

"I just don't want to see you get hurt again. I know losing Bruce was rough on you and I want you to be ready to move on when you're strong enough. And what about Peter? He needs you right now."

"I know that, and I wouldn't neglect him again, he doesn't deserve that. I need your help coming up with an apology."

"I'm not going to have any part of this," she says with a dismissive gesture. "You're on your own, pal."

"Pepper," Tony pleads.

"Just be honest with him. Honesty works wonders; you should try it sometime."

Tony groans and falls back into the chair behind him. "I'm being serious. I really like Steve, and I really want another shot at this. I'm just gonna go talk to him, tell him I won't fuck around this time, and that I'm ready to be the guy he wants to date."

"That's very convincing."

"You think it'll work?"

Pepper shrugs. "For your sake, I hope so."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Life's been tough. :/

It's noon on Thursday when Tony's sitting in the car waiting outside of Peter's school. The parent-teacher conference isn't until five o'clock but Tony is already a bundle of nerves. He's fidgeting and sighing more than he should be. He plays on his phone to try and distract himself but it does no good. He bounces his leg against the floorboard of the car as the bell sounds.

Peter is one of the first kids out and Tony's thankful for that. When he climbs into the backseat, Tony makes sure he's buckled before taking off.

"How was school?" Tony asks, glancing in the mirror.

Peter's staring out the window at he shrugs. School is never really fun, but he has his friend Gwen and that makes everything okay. "It was nice. Are you coming home?"

"Yep. Pep's at the office and said I could hang with you for the rest of the day. Got any ideas?"

Peter turns to face the rear view mirror with a toothy grin. "Ice cream?"

Tony nods. "Ice cream it is."

* * *

After a half hour in the ice cream shop, Tony and Peter head back to the house. Peter wanders off into his bedroom and the sound of video games fill the second floor of the home within minutes. Tony drags himself up the stairs eventually, too emotionally exhausted to do anything other than trudge. He thinks about Steve and what's going to happen tonight. What if Steve gets upset? What if Steve says no? What if Steve says yes? If Steve says yes, when will they tell Peter?

Tony groans and tosses his briefcase onto the bed and decides to change. He's in suits more often than he's in jeans, and when he pulls on the distressed pair of Levi's, he feels ten times better. He then decides that he'll wear jeans and a t-shirt to the conference tonight. He'll show Steve that he really can relax and be normal.

Tony decides not to eat before the conference. Eating makes his stomach hurt if he's nervous and he's accustomed to going a day without eating. Instead, he drinks coffee to curb his appetite and goes over all the things he wants Steve to know. He wants to tell Steve that he's ready to be serious. Like,  _really_  ready, because he is; he wants this. He plans to tell Steve that this is the first time he's been really happy since Bruce died.

The next four hours are excruciating. Tony decides to fill them with computer work and 9 cups of coffee.

* * *

"It's this way," Peter says when they walk into the school and Tony hesitates.

"I know where it is," Tony sighs. He trails behind Peter and he's relieved to find that Steve isn't actually waiting at the door for them. Tony tries to be cool in his jeans and t-shirt but he's not; he's nervous and he doesn't want to do this at all.

Peter walks in first and Tony follows slowly. Steve's at his desk, wearing that stupid blue shirt that makes his eyes look bluer than blue, and he glances up. "Hi, Peter."

"Hi," Peter says.

Tony shifts, and he's about to greet Steve when Steve speaks first. "Mr. Stark," he says quietly. He's so quiet and shy that it almost makes Tony feel better.  _Almost_.

Tony smiles just a little and nods. "Hi."

Steve motions for them to sit down at the chairs across from his desk and they do. Peter suddenly finds his shoes entirely interesting and Tony makes himself pay more attention than he wants to of Steve's assessment.

The meeting is short because it's only the beginning of the year and Peter is doing well. It doesn't really come as a surprise to Tony, who explains that Bruce was better at helping with Peter's homework, but he says he tries to help as much as he can. Steve smiles and says it's paying off. They talk about future projects and assignments and then Steve dismisses them.

"Can I speak with you alone?" Tony asks quietly.

Steve is surprised and caught off guard and he's staring. He feels so entirely stupid and humiliated, and finally manages to say, "Okay."

"Peter, stay put."

Steve leads Tony into the hall and he's thankful that no one else is in the hallway to witness this.

"How are you?" Tony asks softly. "Really."

Steve sighs and shakes his head. He doesn't really know how to answer that without sounding pathetic, so he settles for the gentle truth. "I've been okay. You?"

"Same," Tony shrugs a shoulder. "No, I—I've actually been  _really_ shitty. I mean, I've been more productive at work and I'm working on my time management but, fuck, I can't hardly sleep at all."

Steve nods and shoves his hands in the pockets of his khakis. "I've been slacking at work and not wanting to do much of anything when I get home," he admits.

Tony nods, purses his lips and then it sort of just falls out of his mouth. "Look, I know this is a long shot and I don't deserve this at all, but I really like you. I mean,  _really_. And I miss you, and you're a great guy and you made me the happiest I've ever been since Bruce died. I know I don't deserve it and I'm a fucking asshole, but if for some reason you'd want to give us another shot—I've changed. I have, and it's for my own sake and for Peter's and I just—I would really love it if you'd want to give me another chance. I know why you wouldn't and I can understand but you just made me happy so... so I don't know. Take some time and think it over."

Steve swallows and his tongue feels thick in his mouth when he tries to speak. He doesn't trust himself enough to say anything other than "okay". He extends his hand for a handshake and Tony takes it, squeezing it, and Steve says he'll tell Tony what he's decided when he does, in fact, decide.

With a nod, Tony smiles at him. "By the way, you look really,  _really_  nice in blue."

"So I've been told," Steve replies with a small smile.

Tony sticks his head in the classroom and calls for Peter to come out, and he smiles at Steve once more before they head back to the house.

* * *

"It went okay?" Pepper asks after dinner. She and Tony are clearing the table and Peter's showering upstairs.

"Yeah, I think—I think it went really well. Steve looked pretty miserable and he said he'd let me know. But if he does, Pep, I'm gonna need help with Peter and working. I know I've been better but I'd have to have time for dates and maybe some nights I'd have to sleep over and I'd need... I'd need help," he admits. "I really want this."

Pepper pauses to ruffle her fingers through Tony's hair. "I know you do. I'll do my best."

* * *

When the kitchen is clean, Tony announces that he's going up to shower. He neglects to take his phone with him and Pepper is setting the coffee pot for the next morning when she hears it go off. The screen lights up with a text message alert and she grabs it, heading up the stairs. "Tony!"

"What?"

She knocks on the bathroom door before opening it, peeking around the door. Tony takes the phone wordlessly, opening the text, and he really can't believe it when he reads:  _Dinner tomorrow at 6?_

Tony's so happy he could fucking cry.


	20. Chapter 20

Natasha walks in on Steve cleaning, entirely unannounced until she yells over the vacuum, "Getting ready for your hot date?!" And she laughs because Steve is actually startled by her presence.

He steps on the power button, sighs, and tries not to glare at her. "It's just a dinner date. I'm not expecting anything to happen."

Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch, legs folded beneath her body, to allow Steve to resume vacuuming whenever he sees fit. "Whatever it is, I'm glad you're finally cleaning up the place; it was starting to smell like a locker room."

Steve hums, stepping on the power button, and finishes his rounds in the living room. When he's done, he winds up the cord, returns the vacuum to its closet and goes to plop down with Natasha in the living room. They're on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, and Steve lifts his feet to rest them on the coffee table.

"I hope I'm making the right decision," he says, because he honestly isn't sure if he is. After the first round with Tony and then everything with Bucky, Steve just wants normalcy. He wants a normal life with a normal boyfriend who is actually serious and committed about the entire relationship.

"Does it feel right?" Natasha asks.

"It does," Steve nods. "Tony seemed really sincere when he apologized. I think he finally got his shit together. How's Clint?"

Natasha shrugs. "He's good. So, what are you cooking?"

"Filet mignon with a mushroom-wine sauce and roasted potatoes. For dessert I one of those caramel crumble cheesecakes from the bakery."

"Sounds good." She puts her hand on Steve's knee and squeezes it just a little. "I'm happy for you. I really hope everything goes well; you deserve it."

Steve nods, rests his head back for a moment and hopes. He hopes that this evening will go smoothly, hopes that they'll have fun and talk about things that they want in life and part of him hopes Tony will stay the night if things go well.

"What time is he coming?"

"Six o'clock."

"It's a quarter till five; guess you better start cooking."

Steve smirks. "Guess so."

*

Precisely at six o'clock, the table is set and the candles are lit and Steve is wearing that blue shirt that Tony loves so much. He brushes his hands on his slacks and he's surprised that when the doorbell rings, the clock still reads 6. He takes a deep breath and walks through the kitchen to the living room and the front door. Tony is there, black suit and all, and he's brought flowers and he's grinning.

"Hi."

Steve smiles back, coy and reserved, and he's caught off guard when Tony leans in to kiss his cheek.

"These are for you," Tony says, offering the roses. "I bought them, by the way. For real this time."

Steve smiles bigger now, teeth and all, and he reaches around Tony to close the door. "Thanks. Table's set, I'll be there in a few."

Tony nods and goes to the kitchen as Steve searches for the crystal vase that was his grandmother's. Once the roses are properly placed in the living room in a vase of water, he goes into the kitchen where Tony is waiting.

"It smells amazing," Tony says, and he's not even faking it; he's starving. He may or may not have skipped lunch to reserve his appetite. "Jesus, Steve, you look—wow."

Steve takes a seat and unfolds his napkin into his lap. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

Tony nods and then looks down at his plate. "Eat and then talk or talk and then eat, or—?"

"How about both?"

“Both sounds great,” Tony admits.

*

They're halfway through dinner when Steve finally has the opportunity to reveal his feelings. Tony is all ears, fork resting on his plate and hands in his lap.

"I just don't want to be disappointed again," Steve says softly. It hurts to say it, to watch Tony’s face fall as he says it, but he needs Tony to know. "I understand that you're busy with Peter and you're busy with work. Tony, please just know that I can't—I can't get hurt like that again. I like you. I really, really do, but I can't go through that again. I really can't."

Tony nods, purses his lips. "I know. I'm sorry, I can't say that enough. I'm—I'm ready. I really am, I want this, I adore you, Steve, and I want to get to know you better."

Steve exhales slowly, breaking into a small smile. "Okay."

*

They finish dinner, clear the table, and Tony even helps with the dishes. His suit jacket is long forgotten on a chair somewhere and with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands submerged in soapy water, Steve is starting to discover just who Tony really is.

"Pink Floyd was you first concert?" Steve asks incredulously. "Really?"

"Really," Tony laughs.

Steve covers his eyes with his arm, groaning dramatically. "No! No, the cliches!"

Tony laughs louder, harder, and then Steve's laughing, too. What they said isn't really even that funny, it just feels good to laugh candidly for once. Steve, who is the designated dish dryer, sighs when he's done laughing, and then he leans his head against Tony's shoulder. His hands rotate the clean plate in the towel until it's dry and he puts it on the counter next to him.

Tony glances over at Steve and hesitates, but then decides to kiss the top of Steve's hair. "I'm sorry," he says, soft and raw and he means it; he means it so much. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Steve finally moves his head to look at Tony and then leans in, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I forgive you."

Tony smiles again, one corner of his mouth turned up, and looks back at the sink of dishes. "Good. Now that we've got that cleared up, I'd like to spend the night with you."

Steve laughs, taken aback, and then stares at Tony. "You don't mess around, do you?"

"Well," he shrugs, "I did that last time and look what happened."

"You're right," Steve admits. He moves closer to Tony and kisses him nice and proper on the mouth this time. "I'd love it if you stayed the night.”


	21. Chapter 21

"Happy Halloween!" Steve says, poking his head into Natasha's office. The space is small, measuring only 6 feet by 5, and it's meticulously organized. The desk is a late 80's model, complete with peeling vinyl edges. Behind her desk is a bookshelf and behind that is storage for extra gym equipment.

"Hey," she says casually, not glancing up from her computer.

"What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be home helping Clint set up?"

Every year Clint and Natasha throw  _the_  Halloween party. There are others in town, of course, but Clint and Natasha to go all out with an open bar and catered food from Deep Fork Wood Grill & Seafood in Oklahoma City. The party usually caters to adults, but there is always someone designated to give out candy to the trick-or-treaters.

"He's a big boy, he can handle it. You got big plans for tonight?"

Steve shakes his head. He doesn't mean for his voice to falter slightly but it does. "Probably just gonna hit up your party. Tony said he and Peter might drop by."

"Still having commitment issues I see."

"That's not fair." Steve shoves his hands in his pockets and straightens his posture. "He has a kid and it's an adult-themed party. Why are you so hard on him?"

Natasha finally turns in her chair and looks up at Steve. "I don't trust him. I just  _don't,_ not after what he did to you at the hotel and all of that. I don't want to see you get hurt again, okay?"

"That's fair," Steve relents. "And I appreciate that." He reaches out, setting a hand on her shoulder. "You're a great friend—"

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming."

"—but it's my life and I would appreciate it if you could at least respect my opinion."

"You generally do have good judgment. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

" _Thank you_. Are you gonna be out of here anytime soon?"

She nods and stands up, closing her laptop grabbing her satchel bag from the floor beside her desk. They walk out side-by-side and Natasha locks the gym up tight for the weekend. "So, are you dressing up?"

Steve laughs, shaking his head. "No. Are you?"

She nods. "Clint and I are going to be vampires. Cliche, I know, but it was his turn to pick this year."

Natasha stops short when they reach the parking lot and she utters something under her breath. Steve tries to contain his smile but he can't. He's grinning from ear-to-ear as soon as he sees Tony leaning against the hood of his car.

"Natasha," Tony says, nodding toward her.

"Mr. Stark."

Steve clears his throat. "See you tonight," he tells Natasha before turning to Tony. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd surprise you." Tony reaches up, hand on Steve's cheek, and kisses him lightly. "I ran Peter to the office and I have some time to kill before dinner."

A smile tugs at the corner of Steve's mouth. "Have any ideas?"

Tony grins. "I have a few."

* * *

"Fuck," Tony groans. He pulls out of Steve and flops onto his back beside him, his heart hammering in his chest. "I needed that."

Steve laughs, reaching for the sheet and pulling it up over his body. "It was good. That was good." He watches Tony run a hand over his face and smiles faintly at him. In the dim glow of the autumn afternoon sun streaming through the window, Tony looks like a real person. Not an idea, not a dream, but a real person. Someone real that Steve can be with. He wriggles slightly until his head is resting on Tony's shoulder. He turns slightly, his hand resting on Tony's rapidly rising and falling chest. "Do you have plans for tonight?"

"Taking Peter trick-or-treating. I thought we might stop by the party later. Are you gonna be there all night?"

Steve nods, licks his lips and sighs softly. A question lingers on the tip of his tongue but he says nothing.

Tony turns his head, kissing Steve's cheek softly. "You alright?"

"Yeah, it's—I was going to ask if you wanted to maybe come by later tonight after Peter's in bed."

"Maybe," he nods. He runs his fingers over Steve's tacky skin. "Is something wrong?"

Steve licks his lip and swallows hard. "Yeah, I just—I've been thinking."

"What about?"

"I feel like we should take the next step."

Tony blinks, slightly taken aback. "What's the next step?"

"Maybe we should tell Peter that we're dating." He sees Tony's about to protest and says, "I know it's your call. It's totally your call."

"It  _is_ my call," Tony says. "I don't understand why—"

"It would just make me feel more comfortable." Steve pulls back and sits up, pooling the blanket around his waist. "Some of the teachers at the school are starting to talk and I think maybe it's time for us to move forward." He watches for a minute as Tony scrubs over his face again and he knows he's made a mistake bringing anything up.

Tony sits up and turns to face Steve, who's suddenly become more interested at looking at his bed rather than at Tony. Tony reaches out and puts his hand on Steve's knee, squeezing gently. "I get where you're coming from and we'll tell him soon. I promise you we will."

Steve nods but Tony's assurance doesn't seem to make him feel better.

Tony thinks for a moment and then sighs. "What about tomorrow? I feel like if we told him tonight he'd be distracted. How about you and I meet for lunch tomorrow and I'll bring Peter?"

"Are you sure?" Steve asks nervously.

Tony nods. "I want to tell him but I think he'll need some time for it to sink in, so if we do it over lunch tomorrow he'll have the rest of the day and all day Sunday to think about it before he goes back to school."

"That actually... that actually makes a lot of sense."

Tony stares at Steve in mock offense before lunging forward and kissing his cheek. "I gotta get back to the house."

* * *

Steve tries to hide his disappointment that Tony and Peter don't show for the party. He has a good time regardless, laughing with neighbors and coworkers and helping Natasha keep up with everything. The party winds down just before midnight and it's almost 1 AM by the time the caterers and tables and tents are cleared out. In Natasha's kitchen, she and Steve finally get the chance to talk without being distracted by the atmosphere around them.

"I didn't see Tony," she says casually, pulling her Victorian-style clip-on earrings from her earlobes. "Did he stop by?"

Steve swallows, feels a big  _I-told-you-so_  coming. "He didn't."

"Oh. Okay."

He sighs and leans back against the counter, arms crossed in a defensive stance. "Natasha, stop."

" _What_? I'm just—"

"I'm entirely aware of your disapproval of Tony, okay? I get it: you don't like him. Can we please move on?"

Natasha stares at him, slightly aghast. "I was honestly just asking you."

"Were you?"

"Yes!"

Steve shakes his head and moves to get a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "He probably didn't stop by because we decided to tell Peter that we're dating. We're going out to lunch together tomorrow."

"That's kind of a huge step," Natasha comments. She reaches up and begins to pluck bobby pins from her updo. "You're sure you're ready for that?"

"I'm sure."

She nods. "Okay."

"If you don't need anything else, I'm gonna head home if it's okay."

"No, we're fine." Natasha gives him a soft, one-sided smile and crosses the kitchen to kiss Steve's cheek. "Let me know how it goes tomorrow."

"Will do. Goodnight, Natasha."


	22. Chapter 22

"You're up early," Pepper says without looking up from her laptop.

Tony puts his mug of coffee down on the end table and then plops on the couch. "I don't really feel like it's that early."

"Early for you."

"Maybe." He reaches for his coffee and takes a sip, holding it in both hands, legs crossed. "Why are you always working?"

"Because there's always work to be done."

"You should take the day off, pamper yourself. It'd do you good."

Pepper pauses, glancing up just briefly. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying."

"Sure you are." She sets her laptop to the side and gets up with her empty coffee mug, returning with a fresh steaming cup moments later. "Do you have plans for the day?"

"Actually," Tony starts, nodding, "I have lunch plans with Steve."

"Do you want me to watch Peter?"

"Nope, he's coming with me. We decided to tell Peter that we're dating."

Pepper looks at Tony long and hard, her lips in a thin line. Finally she says, "That's a big step. Do you think he'll be okay with it?"

"I think he will. He seems to like Steve."

"I know he likes Steve but Steve is his teacher," Pepper reminds him. "His feelings might change if he feels threatened by Steve. This is just—it's a huge step for all of you. Have you even talked to Peter about how he feels about you dating?"

"Why would I ask him?"

"Because he's your son and he deserves a say on who becomes a part of your lives! These things take time. I don't think you should jump right in by saying you're dating Steve. I think you should talk to Peter and reassure him that he's the most important thing to you. If he seems to be okay, then maybe you can tell him. If he's not okay with it, wait a little longer. I get that you're happy, and that's great. It's really great to see you happy but I don't want Peter to be collateral damage."

"I don't want that either, Pep, you know that. I'll talk to him."

* * *

Tony has to prepare himself before he even talks to Peter. He knows he's awake; he hears Pepper ask him what kind of cereal he wants for breakfast. When Pepper has likely gone back to her spot on the sofa, Tony slips into the kitchen from the dining room.

"Hey, kid."

"Hi," Peter says, mouth full of Honey Nut Cheerios and milk dribbling down his chin.

"I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay," he shrugs.

Tony sighs, deep and heavy, and sits down in the chair next to Peter at the table. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"No," Peter says with just a hint of a smile.

"I'm being serious right now, Peter." Tony closes his eyes, wishing he could be someplace else, and when he opens them Peter is staring at him wide-eyed and concerned. "Do you know I love you?" he asks again.

Peter nods.

"Do you know that I love you so much I would do anything for you?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's important to me that you're happy, but I want to be happy too."

Peter sets his spoon in his bowl and looks Tony straight on. "You're not happy?"

"No, I'm happy, I just—I'm lonely."

"You're lonely?" Peter echoes. "But you have me and Pepper."

"I know, baby, but I miss—I miss your papa." Tony's voice cracks and he fights to hold back the tears that want to fall. He stares at the table top until he's certain he can look at Peter without crying. "I miss Papa."

"Me too," Peter whispers.

Tony reaches to stroke Peter's hair, a sad smile settling on his lips. "Maybe it's time for me to find someone new."

Peter stares at Tony as if the gears in his brain are turning. Finally he asks, quiet and small, "Don't you still love Papa?"

Tony's heart breaks, it shatters into at least a hundred pieces, and he feels a tear slip from his right eye. "Of course I love him, Peter. I love both of you so, so much, but—but Papa's gone." Tony's voice goes thin and it's wavering and he can barely get the words out. "I think it's time for me to find someone new to love. Papa wouldn't want me to be sad, would he?"

"No," Peter says, and it comes out as a whine because he doesn't want to admit it but it's true. "He would want you to be happy." And suddenly Peter is crying and he isn't really sure why.

"Come here," Tony says, arms outstretched, and Peter gets up to go sit in his lap. He kisses Peter's cheek and ruffles his hair. "Would you be okay with that? If I started seeing someone new?"

Peter shrugs, makes an unintelligible noise.

"Yes or no, Pete; it's that simple."

"I want you to be happy," he says.

"Good. 'Cause guess what."

"What?"

"I met someone." When Tony smiles down at Peter, Peter manages to smile back.

* * *

"What's he like? Is he nice?"

"Of course he's nice."

"How nice?"

"Trust me, you'll like him," Tony says, running his fingers through his hair for the third time. He does another mirror check before he decides that he looks presentable. He opens the car door and goes around to Peter's side to help him out.

They hold hands on the way into the restaurant and the place is empty enough for now but will be bustling in an hour. Tony leads Peter by the hand through the maze of tables until they find Steve sitting in a corner booth. Peter hides behind Tony, still not putting the two together, but Tony pulls Peter to his side again.

"Hi, Peter," Steve says casually.

"Hi."

Tony slides into the empty side of the booth and pats the seat beside him, watching as Peter climbs up beside him.

"Why are we here?" Peter asks, voice quiet.

"We're here because I've been seeing Steve—Mr. Rogers."

"Oh. Okay." Peter nods, but it's still sinking in, and he relaxes a little when Tony puts his arm around his shoulders.

* * *

Tony pretends not to notice that Peter doesn't eat much of his meal. He and Steve talk and they try to engage Peter but he isn't having any of it. When Steve offers him dessert he gives a noncommittal answer, but he picks at the piece of cheesecake Steve chooses for him.

Before they know it, the restaurant is filling up with farmers in dirty jeans and work boots, white t-shirts turned dusty orange from the red dirt and baseball caps that have seen their better days. Tony pays the check and ushers Steve and Peter to the parking lot. He notices the way Steve is staring at the ground and he looks like he's about to cry.

When they get to Tony's car he unlocks it and turns to Steve. "Peter, wait in the car."

As soon as Peter is in the Audi and the door is shut, Steve sighs. "This was a bad idea."

"Hey, no, Peter just has to get used to the idea of us being together. I mean, I told him I was seeing someone, and that someone turns out to be his teacher. I think he took it pretty well considering."

Steve smiles just a little and shakes his head. "You know him better than I do."

"Damn straight. Give him time to warm up to the idea." Tony leans in, kissing him softly on the mouth. "I'll call you later tonight."

"Okay. Thanks for lunch by the way."

"Sure thing." Tony slides into the car, starts it, and pulls out onto the road. He glances over at Peter whose legs are pulled up to his chest on the seat and whose head is resting against the car door and who definitely isn't happy. "Peter?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Why are you upset?"

"Because I don't like you right now."

Tony sighs. "Well, I love you right now. C'mon, kid, tell me what's bothering you. Do you not like Steve?"

"Not for you," Peter mumbles.

"Look, I know it's hard and you're still sad about Papa, right?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm still sad about him too but I like Steve. He's nice and hey—he can cook! So far he's doing better than me, right?"

Peter laughs just a little and tries to disguise it with a fake cough.

"I think you just need to give it some time."

"Why can't you just marry Pepper?" Peter sighs.

"Because I don't like Pepper that way. But you know what? No matter who I marry next— _if_ I get married again—Pepper isn't going away. She'll always be there for you, okay? And so will I, and so will Steve if you give him a chance. Can you do that for me?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Tony hears it nonetheless: "I'll try."


	23. Chapter 23

On the Friday before Thanksgiving, Steve, Pepper and Tony are sitting around the crackling fire in Tony's house after a particularly good dinner Pepper cooked. Peter has since gone to bed and Tony is stretched out on the couch with his feet in Steve's lap.

"Steve, do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" asks Pepper.

"Oh, I'm probably going to cook for Natasha and Clint. That's how we usually do it every year. You guys are more than welcome to come," he says, "if you don't have plans."

"We could do that," Tony cuts in, turning his head to look at Pepper. "We could do that, right? Saves you the trouble of cooking."

"Well, I—I guess so, I haven't bought anything yet. I mean I've made my list but... yeah, okay. It might be nice." Pepper smiles at Steve, soft and sincere, and he smiles back.

"Sounds great," Steve confirms. "I'll let Nat know."

"It's a good idea," says Tony, "especially since you're gonna be spending more time around here which, if you haven't guessed, you are, now that Peter knows."

Steve nods, his fingers playing with Tony's hair. "Is he doing okay with it or—? I noticed he didn't say much at dinner."

"He was just tired, babe. He's fine."

Pepper stands up amid their soft banter and disappears somewhere upstairs and Tony is ecstatic that they're alone. He feels himself relax further, his shoulders sinking into the comfortable space between Steve's thighs and the couch. He's so content, so at rest in this moment and, honestly, he'd stay here the rest of the night if he could.

"So. Thanksgiving."

Tony grunts. "Pretty big step, huh? Spending it with us?"

"Is it? I don't—I wasn't sure. Should I not have offered?"

Tony reaches back behind his head and manages to grasp two of Steve's fingers in his hand. "It'll be fine. You worry too much."

"I've never cooked for more than three people before."

"Peter and I could help."

"Have you ever cooked anything before? Something tells me you haven't."

Tony shrugs. "The pressure's on, huh?"

Steve laughs. "Guess so."

* * *

t's Thanksgiving morning when Tony and Peter drag themselves up to Steve's front door unannounced. Tony is hoping that Steve is awake when he knocks, and he breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees a figure moving through the frosted glass window.

The door opens with a squeak and Steve is there in plaid pajama pants and a white tank top, hair still mussed from sleep. "Hey! What are you guys doing here?"

"Thought we'd come help you cook. We brought donuts." Tony leans in to kiss Steve on the cheek and walks in, motioning for Peter to follow.

Steve closes the door with a 'hey, Peter' and follows the sound of Tony's incessant babbling. Before he even offer Tony coffee, he's pressed against the counter and Tony's lips are on his own. Steve sighs softly through his nose, contemplates deepening the kiss, and then remembers that Peter is in the living room only a few feet away. He breaks the kiss, chuckling at Tony's dramatic eye roll.

"Coffee?" Steve asks, trying to salvage the last fragile piece of formality.

"Sure. Serve me." Tony grabs a chair from the small breakfast table and takes a seat, leaning back.

Seconds later, Steve sets Tony's mug of coffee in front of him with a kiss to his hair.

Tony takes a sip and gives Steve a 'hm' of approval, followed by a second sip. "So," he says as Steve sits down with his own cup.

"So."

"Do you do this every year? Cook, I mean."

"Oh, yeah. This will only be the third year. When I was little we never really had family or the means to do Thanksgiving. My mom always worked, so I would just come visit her at work and we would eat in the cafeteria. The hospital always made a meal for the patients, their families, the employees. I never felt like I was missed out. It's a lot of work, though."

"Are you up to the challenge?" asks Tony with just a hint of sarcasm.

"I think I'll manage. You're the one who should be worried. You can be my sous chef."

"I never said anything about helping," Tony reminds him.

Steve looks at Tony, straight-faced, and says, "Then you can leave."

They stare at each other and Steve shows no sign of relenting. Finally, Tony sighs dramatically. "Fine. I'll help."

* * *

"Steve! Steve, is this enough onion?" Tony cranes his neck to see any sign of Steve and sighs. Steve has been gone exactly two minutes which is plenty of time to pee, which is where he said he was going when he left Tony alone. Tony doesn't know what Steve was thinking, honestly, leaving him in charge of things for even two minutes. Tony's been known to burn Pop Tarts in the toaster oven; he has no business watching over any portion of the Thanksgiving meal for any amount of time.

"I'm right here," Steve says, coming back into the kitchen. He glances at Tony's onion pile and hums decidedly. "That should be enough. Okay, so now heat up the skillet and sauté it with the celery. The butter's in a dish by the toaster."

Tony retrieves the butter dish and heats up the skillet per Steve's instructions. "How much butter do I use?"

"A couple of tablespoons," Steve answers. He opens the oven long enough to check on the turkey and see that it's browning nicely. He's never been more thankful for his patience and understanding because, honestly, Tony's questions and neediness would wear on anyone else.

"Like this?"

Steve glances across the kitchen and nods, to which Tony smiles. That's when Steve finds a moment to slip away into the living room to check on Peter. "Hey," he says softly.

Peter is sitting on the couch with his hands in his lap, eyes glued intently on Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. "Hi," he says, distracted.

"See any good floats yet?"

Peter shrugs. "Not really."

Steve's eyes are focused on the empty seat next to Peter. He knows that if he and Tony are going to continue their relationship, things with Peter have got to get better. It's not that they're bad, more like just non-existent, and things would be easier if they were on the same page.

Finally, Steve clears his throat. "Can I sit down?"

Peter looks like he wants to say no but he nods, and Steve takes the seat beside him. "Has your dad ever cooked anything before?"

"Not really," Peter admits, quiet.

"I can tell. He needs a lot of help."

At that, Peter laughs. It's not a  _laugh_  laugh, but it's a soft chuckle. "Pepper says that he could burn water."

"I can believe it." Steve smiles to himself stupidly and decides to count this exchange as a small victory. Then something inside of him says he should go further, push Peter just a little bit more. "Hey, Peter?"

"Hm?"

"Do you wanna help me make the cheesecake?"

Peter turns and looks to Steve, wide-eyed and conflicted. He glances back at the TV fretfully and then at Steve once more before he finally nods.

* * *

After dinner Natasha and Tony clean up the kitchen, per Steve's request. Tony hates it, he's never really been good at cleaning, and Natasha has to pick up the slack. She's none too pleased about it and is very blunt in telling Tony so.

"Could you at least act like you've seen dirty dishes before?"

"I have seen them before. It was in a movie once," he quips, pulling the full trash bag out of the can. He takes it out to the porch with a disgruntled sigh and comes bath, not bothering to close the door.

Natasha feels the chill from the outside air and isn't surprised to see the door standing open when she turns around. "What, were you raised in a barn? Close that!"

Tony complies and in doing so replies, "I'd never actually seen a barn in person before I moved here." He doesn't notice, but Natasha actually huffs a quiet laugh at that. She finishes loading the dish washer and starts it, turning around to face Tony with her hands gripping the edge of the counter.

"Look, I don't know what Steve sees in you. I honestly don't, but here's a reason he gave you a second chance. If you fuck him over again—"

"Are you threatening me? I feel threatened."

Natasha shakes her head. "I don't wanna see him lose again, you know? He deserves to be happy."

Tony nods. "I know he does."

"So don't fuck this up."

"I'll do my best."


	24. Chapter 24

On December 1st Steve's classroom has transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There is a large tree in the corner, glittery white snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and seasonally appropriate decorative border on all bulletin and white boards. Steve is sitting at his desk after hours, trying to catch up on the papers he definitely should have graded during Thanksgiving break (which he would have done if Tony staying over hadn't distracted him).

He grades the "What are you thankful for?" assignment, the corresponding coloring sheet, and last week's spelling test. He's got a dinner date with Tony tonight and he's just about finished up when his laptop bleeps with an email notification. He glances up and expects to see the evite to Natasha's annual Christmas party, but when he sees the subject line reads "Notice of Nonrenewal" he wastes no time opening the email.

_Dear Mr. Rogers:_

_Subsequent to your evaluation on November 4, 2013, this letter is to inform you that I am recommending that your teaching assignment end within the probationary period and that your teaching contract not be renewed with South Barber Elementary School for the 2014-2015 school year._

_This recommendation will be forwarded to Brock Rumlow, Assistant Superintendent for his consideration. If you would like an opportunity to discuss this recommendation with Brock Rumlow, Assistant Superintendent, please contact him directly at the phone number provided below as soon as possible to set up an appointment. If you do not wish to meet or if you would prefer to submit comments in writing, you may send them to 512 Main, Kiowa, KS 67070, or e-mail the comments to rumlow.b . Any written comments need to be received by December 9, 2013, at 4:00 p.m. to be considered._

_If the Assistant Superintendent concurs with this recommendation, your name will be forwarded to the Superintendent. If the Superintendent agrees with the recommendation, the Superintendent will bring the action to non-renew your contract and end your employment with South Barber School District Board of Education at a meeting of the Board in January. You will receive a letter from the Human Resource Department before February 1 notifying you of the Board's decision._

_Regards,_

_Phil Coulson_

Steve has to read the email three times before it sinks in. His heart is pounding and his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth. His first instinct is to call Coulson and set up an appointment with the board but he doesn't. He needs a second opinion and he needs to clear his head. He needs Tony.

Steve reaches for the phone that sits on his desk and dials out to Tony's office, relieved when Tony answers.

"Stark."

"Hey, it's me," Steve says, doing little to mask the distress in his voice.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you at the office?"

"Yeah, what's up? You're scaring me."

Steve sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. "Can I come by for a bit? I need to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, yeah. Is everything okay?"

"Not really. I'll explain when I get there."

Steve hangs up and gathers his things before heading out to the car. His mind is still spinning, wondering how and why Couslon can possibly think that not renewing his contract is justified. He's a good teacher, his test scores reflect that, and he rarely even calls in sick. It's a misunderstanding, Steve decides.

He heads over to Tony's building, walks briskly past Pepper's office and back to Tony's office where he's sitting with his feet propped up on the desk.

Tony startles at the intrusion, eyes wide and concerned. "What's wrong? Who died?"

"It's work," Steve says, feeling defeated and drained but still shaking from the adrenaline. "My principle—"

"Coulson?"

"Yeah, I got an email today. My contract isn't being renewed for next year."

Tony's eyes widen in surprise. "What? Why?"

"I—don't know, it just said that following my most recent evaluation the school board has decided not to renew my contract. I don't get it. My students have good grades for the most part."

Tony runs a hand through his hair and motions to the chair for Steve to sit down. "What are your options? We could sue. I've got good lawyers."

Steve isn't sure if Tony is trying to make him laugh but it works. He chuckles nervously, shrugging. "I don't know. I mean, I can meet with the board and plead my case but there's no guarantee it'll help. I know it's probably a personal thing at this point. If I make a big deal about it the surrounding schools are bound to hear about it, which means I wouldn't be able to find another teaching job within a fifty mile radius."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I—I don't know. I need to think about obviously."

"Obviously," Tony comments. "Hey, wanna grab dinner?"

Steve glances at his watch. "It's only three thirty."

"Late lunch," Tony says, standing up and grabbing his coat. "C'mon."

* * *

At the Plum Thickett Steve and Tony take the small booth in the corner. The place is empty for the most part and so Tony and Steve share the same side of the small, cramped booth. Their thighs and shoulders touch but it's comforting to Steve, like being physically secure counteracts the insecurity of his job.

When the waitress appears they order a blooming onion and Tony orders a beer and Steve orders sweet tea. They're left alone again and Steve sighs, resting his head on his hand. "I'm torn, honestly."

"'Bout work?"

Steve nods. "I just want everything to be alright."

"You could find another job," Tony says, resting his head against Steve's shoulder. "They always need teachers. And you're young and hot so you've got that going for you."

"I feel like I've been knocked down, you know?"

"I know," Tony nods.

"Maybe I should talk to Phil, feel him out a bit before I make a scene in front of the school board. What do you think?"

"I think I want the chicken fried steak," Tony says decidedly, looking over the menu.

"Tony..."

"Sorry." He snaps the menu closed and looks over at Steve. "I think that's a good idea, honestly."

"I'll call him when we leave," Steve says. "Till then I'm not gonna think about it."

Tony leans over, kissing his cheek. "Good plan."


	25. Chapter 25

It's Tuesday morning at seven o'clock and he's sitting down in Phil's office for his requested informal meeting regarding his contract.

"Thanks for meeting me," Steve says.

"Sure thing," Phil nods. "You got my email?"

"Yes," Steve says. "I just don't understand why my contract isn't getting renewed. I did well on my evaluations, or at least I thought I did. This is the first I've heard that there was a problem. I don't understand."

"Was I not clear?"

Steve blinks, cocking his head to the side. "Excuse me?"

"Steve, your contract isn't being renewed. That's all I can tell you."

"'What's the reason for that? I mean—"

"Goodness of fit," Phil shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

"Goodness of fit?" Steve echoes incredulously.

Coulson nods. "I'm sorry, Steve."

Steve is crushed. His posture fails and he feels himself sink in his seat. It's there on the tip of his tongue to ask if this has anything to do with Tony, but Steve knows that Phil doens't have the ultimate say in this. He could have put in his two cents in but the ultimate decision isn't his to make. "And if I fight it?"

"You can get an appeal but I honestly don't think it'll do you any good. You'd just be wasting their time and yours."

Steve nods. "I understand," he says. He understands that this is a personal retaliation but he's got no grounds for those accusiations nor does he want to open that can of worms. So Steve stands, dignity intact, and leaves Coulson's office before he says something he's going to regret.

* * *

Tony walks through Steve's front door and Steve looks at him forelornly. "It's official," he groans. "I'm jobless!" His voice echoes more sarcastic excitement than intended.

"Hey, no, not yet you aren't," Tony says, toeing off his shoes and stripping his jacket. He flops down next to Steve and kisses his cheek before tucking himself into the crook of Steve's arm.

Steve kisses Tony's hair in return. "Where's Peter?"

"At home. He said he didn't feel good and was going to bed."

"You didn't tell him anything yet, did you? My students aren't supposed to know."

Tony shakes his head and reaches out, his fingers gently gripping Steve's thigh. "You'll find another job."

"Maybe," Steve scoffs.

"Or you could just finish out the year and move in with me and Peter. There's that spare bedroom, you know."

Steve laughs softly and rests his head against Tony's. "Thank you but no. I've got my own house to pay for. I'll start looking or a new job after Christmas."

"Good idea," Tony hums. "Did Coulson give any reason for firing you or—?"

"No. But I mean it's not like I don't know. The other teachers didn't approve of me after you and I started dating. They just found things to nitpick about during my evals. I figured it's best to go out with grace and dignity than try to fight good ol' boy politics."

"You're probably right. But hey! Summer is a long time off and for now you can cope by cuddling with me next to your Christmas tree and roaring fire."

Steve laughs and feels Tony scoot even closer. "I guess I don't have it too bad then, do I?"

"Not at all."


	26. Epilogue

It's mid-September, still technically summer, and Tony's bedroom is still dim with the absense of sunlight. Steve has been up for a while, has already been on his run and already had his shower, and he decides that he's not going to wait for Tony's alarm to wake him up.

"It's six o'clock," Steve says, coming into the bedroom and flipping the light on. "Get up. You said you'd get Peter ready today."

Tony groans, rolls back over and pulls the comforter over his head. "You take him."

"You promised," Steve reaching out and snatching the blanket from Tony's grasp. He chuckles at Tony's irritated sigh and Tony proceeds to sit up, grab Steve by the hips and pull him in for a kiss. Steve turns his head to deepen it, leaning into Tony's touch just a little before pulling back.

"Hey!"

"Peter's going to be late," Steve insists.

"He can be late."

"It's the first day," Steve quips, crossing his arms. "Get up and get your son ready for school, Tony."

He leaves and goes back downstairs to the kitchen. Part of him is empty, sad that he isn't getting ready for school, too, but his unemployment will last him a few more months until he can find a job.

Tony has done his duty sooner than expected because Peter suddenly comes into the kithen, hair combed and wearing the clothes Steve set out for him the night before.

"Hey!" Steve says, beaming. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Cereal's fine," Peter says, hopping up onto the bar stool.

Steve fixes him a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios faster than anyone else ever has and he slides the bowl in front of Peter. He goes back to his cup of coffee and sips it, taking in the view of the late summer morning out the kitchen window. Somewhere upstairs he can hear Pepper and Tony bickering, and here in the kitchen Peter is eating his cereal happily and Steve is positive that despite being jobless, he's got anything he could ever want right here.


End file.
